


Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish

by kyrene



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bullying, F/M, High School AU, M/M, not actually underage but with an age difference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrene/pseuds/kyrene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another high school AU, rather self indulgent. This is dedicated to TooRational because without her encouragement and enthusiasm I probably wouldn't have gotten past the idea stage for this fic! *hearts* Happy Christmas, New Years, and birthday, my lovely!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TooRational](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooRational/gifts).



> Also, Many thanks to my ladies, Fyredancer and Ginandironic, for helping me with the high school stuff (since I was homeschooled)!

"I'm just saying," Ariadne said, a little frown creasing the skin between her dark brows as she carefully painted Eames' fingernails a nice neutral shade of dull slate, "That if they hadn't made it so obvious in the way they were saying 'the child' through the whole thing, I wouldn't have figured out so early on in the movie who the _real_ antagonist was."

Eames chuckled, shaking his head whilst carefully holding his hands still on the tabletop through ease of long practice. "You do realize that you're more intelligent than the average moviegoer, don't you, Ari?" he asked fondly. "Most of them are too caught up in watching the events unfold to peg to something like that."

"Well, it wasn't as though it was subtle," Ariadne rejoined, glancing up at him and wrinkling her nose adorably. 

"Most might argue," Eames said, shrugging. Ariadne was between coats now so he didn't have to worry about messing up the varnish, so long as he didn't start flailing around; which he certainly knew better than to do at this point, under threat of the wrath of Ari.

They were at their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. It was Monday, so everyone knew to stay a ways away, to avoid to smell of the nail enamel Ariadne was wielding. As was the norm.

Eames wasn't sure why Ariadne felt this overwhelming need to varnish his nails twice a week, but he knew better than to argue with her about it. After all, Ariadne was his _only_ friend, and Eames would put up with a lot more than bi-weekly colouring of his nails if it made her happy. Hell, he _had_ put up with more. But then, she gave him so much in return.

Eames was quiet and shy even though he didn't want to be. In no small part because he was a year younger than his classmates, out of his element, and in a strange country. If he hadn't had Ariadne... well, he shuddered to think where he might be.

All alone if he was lucky. Being picked on and bullied if he wasn't. He'd already had his fair share of both, and he definitely preferred being under the protection of Ariadne's regard.

Granted, most if not all of the school thought that he and Ariadne were dating. Which wasn't fair to Ariadne, but she didn't seem to mind. If anyone outright asked, Eames corrected them, of course he did. But not many people spoke to him. Not without speaking through Ari, anyway.

Eames didn't mind. He hadn't asked to be sent to America and he hadn't really wanted to jump ahead a year, but he hadn't really wanted to be bored out of his mind during class either.

So he'd done the equivalent of skipping from year ten in secondary school to being a sophomore in high school and that had made everything a little weird and scary. But through it all Ariadne had been by his side. And so Eames would do just about anything for her. Up to and including letting her varnish his nails and dress him up like what the Americans called a "hipster" and what Eames probably would have labeled "bohemian" if he'd been asked. 

He didn't wear skinny jeans because he didn't like denim crushing his junk, but he did prefer jeans that were more fitted than most American high school student of the masculine persuasion chose. And he had to admit that he was awkwardly attached to the shirts and sweaters with sleeves that went down to his knuckles, often with a hole for the thumb. He drew the line at scarves, though, even when the weather was cool enough to warrant one.

Of course, a large part of his clothing choices were possibly influenced by the fact that he was gay. Eames didn't buy into stereotypes as a rule, but they usually existed for a reason, and he _did_ take more care in his appearance than a majority of his male classmates.

That was part of what made it so ironic and ridiculous that everyone considered he and Ariadne a couple. Just because they shared lunches and went to movies together and were comfortable in one another's company to the point that they might as well have been siblings....

Actually, Ariadne did have a sibling; an older brother named Arthur. Who was about the most beautiful guy Eames had ever seen. If Ariadne had been a boy and had been a year older, taller, just as lean, a little less warm, a little more reserved, she'd have been Arthur. That was part of the appeal, Eames supposed. Not that Arthur wasn't his own person, because he most certainly was. But it didn't matter, did it, because Arthur despised Eames.

And _that_ was the fault of one Dominic Cobb. Who was Arthur's best friend. And who had pretty much shattered Eames when he'd first come to this school, back before Ariadne had taken him under her wing.

But those were times Eames preferred not to dwell on. Dom had seduced him, with his handsome features, bright blue eyes, and perfect blonde hair, taken the better part of Eames' innocence -- or at least ignorance and inexperience -- in a handful of deliciously sordid trysts, then turned around and claimed that Eames had been stalking him, obsessing over him, and generally making a nuisance of himself.

Arthur was really the only one who'd paid attention and bought into that lie, but he was the last person Eames would have wanted to do so. Because he kind of... actually really _liked_ Arthur. He didn't just have a crush on him. Arthur was a genuinely nice guy. He was like Ariadne that way. Only he had been turned against Eames before he could even get to know him and give him a chance.

Oh, he wasn't mean about it. He was polite. But cool. Chillingly cool. Always with the sense that he was judging Eames from behind the teeth of his smile. And since Eames was best friends with Ariadne, he couldn't very well pretend to himself that he was imagining this treatment.

No one else really paid any attention to the rumors Dom had started; mainly because they all thought Eames was dating Ariadne. And Ari was the one person -- outside of Dom and Eames, of course -- who knew the whole truth. Eames had cracked early on and spilled the whole shameful story to her.

Ariadne was, needless to say, incredibly angry at Dom. She was of the opinion that Eames ought to tell the whole world what had really happened. But Eames put his foot down to that. As though he wanted everyone to know he'd been used and tossed aside by one of the most popular kids in school. There was no way he could come out of that scenario looking anything but pathetic.

In truth, Eames had never gotten obsessive. He'd been ready to fall in love with Dom when he'd had the older boy's full attention, it was true, because if there was one thing Dom was it was charismatic. But once Dom had turned icy on him, started blowing him off and turning him away, Eames had gotten the hint right off and had stepped away immediately. He wasn't stupid and he wasn't going to cling where he was unwanted. He'd been hurt, it was true, but he was a realist at heart, and he'd known he and Dom had never had any love between them. Just sex.

Well. He knew that after the fact. But he liked to think that it applied to the entire time they're been fooling around. It made him seem less pitiable, less as though Dom had taken advantage of him.

Thankfully Dom hadn't taken Eames' actual virginity. But they'd done just about everything else, and Eames had given Dom all of his other firsts. That still ached a little, that it had been Dom who'd been his first kiss, the first guy to touch his prick, who'd been the first cock Eames had ever sucked.... And now he was Dominic Cobb, who snubbed Eames in the hallways and was dating Mallory Miles.

Mal was beautiful and poised and French. She was also a senior, eighteen years old, the same as Dom, rather than a weedy fifteen year old like Eames was. Eames really liked her. She was intelligent and although she could be a little snobby -- only natural considering that she was not only French but also beautiful -- she had a kind heart. 

Eames felt, a little bitterly, that she was far better than Dom deserved. But he tried not to hold grudges, and the two of them did make a gorgeous couple.

Ariadne was far more upset about the whole thing than Eames was and far more inclined to hold a grudge. She liked Mal as well, and she _definitely_ thought Mal was better than Dom deserved. But Eames had made her promise not to share his humiliation, and so she couldn't say anything to Mal any more than she could to her own older brother.

So Eames muddled along. He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky as to have Ariadne for a close friend, but here she was, and she didn't seem as though she was going to be going anywhere on him. She was his _best friend_ , and though she could have done far better for herself, she was unwaveringly loyal. Eames appreciated that immensely.

Which was part of the reason he allowed her to varnish his nails on Mondays and Thursdays. At least she went for relatively neutral shades. She never used pink, for example, or peach, or red, and almost never any shade of purple. She mostly stuck to greys, pale or dark blues, black, different types of green, and the occasional metallic. It was usually chipping by the second day, but that was why she did it all over again twice a week.

Eames supposed he might get more grief from his classmates for the coloured nails if they didn't all think he was dating Ari. He knew some of the teachers would give his hands strange looks from time to time. But as the habit went on and never deviated most everyone was coming to accept it as a given.

Eames' guardian had never complained. But then, Mr. Saito was usually out of town on business. Eames was left to the task of raising himself alone, with a food allowance and strict instructions not to let his grades dip past a certain point. Since Eames never did the latter and Ariadne helped him with the former, he felt he was doing just fine. Besides, he liked Mr. Saito well enough but he had to admit that the man intimidated him more than a bit.

Eames was damned lucky to have Ariadne. Her regard, her friendship, her protection. It was tough being younger than everyone, from another country, with a marked accent and bad teeth and a tendency to think of boxers when people went on about "pants". Not to mention being gay and frowned upon by some of the most attractive, popular people in school. If Eames had had to face all of this alone... well, he probably would have despaired.

But he didn't need to. Even though he told her she should be dating or otherwise branching out, Ariadne stuck close to Eames' side. In fact, he was tentatively confident that most of the time she actually _enjoyed_ spending time with him. 

And what was a little nail enamel between friends? Eames would actually rather Ariadne put it on him than ask him to paint _her_ nails, which he was convinced he'd be awful at doing. Ariadne didn't even wear varnish herself, which Eames found amusing and faintly ironic. Thankfully she was adept at painting _his_. Twice a week and sometimes on weekends was something he could easily handle. Especially since Ari gave so much and asked so little in return.

"Come on," Ariadne pursued, still talking about the film they'd seen the other day. "You're of above average intelligence too, Eames; after all, they didn't skip you ahead for no reason. Don't tell me you didn't figure it out for the same reason I did."

Eames smiled, closed-mouthed to hide his crooked front teeth, because no matter how many times Ariadne told him they were "charming" he was self conscious. Here in America, anyway, where everyone had perfect teeth or braces on so that they _would_ have perfect teeth someday. Eames' two top front teeth were completely out of whack, and the ragged jumble of his lower teeth didn't bear thinking on.

"I might have done," he said mildly, quirking one brow. "If you hadn't been whispering it in my ear the first moment you caught on."

Ariadne snorted, then gave him a fond smile, her own teeth flashing, white and straight and perfect, just like everything else about her. She had a lovely smile, bright brown eyes, pink cheeks, a heart-shaped face, soft dark hair, and a sweet petite little figure that was just beginning to blossom into womanhood. She was everything Eames would have wanted if he'd been straight, and she was everything he was _supposed_ to want. He sometimes wondered how anyone with eyes could possibly think she was dating him, but mostly he tried not to dwell on it, and just turned himself to enjoying her company.

Like when they went to see films together and she insisted on guessing things halfway through and sharing with him. She wouldn't be Ariadne if she didn't do that. And Eames loved her just the way she was.

"You love me," she informed him, opening the bottle of varnish once again, as she unknowingly echoed his thoughts almost exactly. But they were pretty simpatico most the time, so he wasn't really startled by this. He had used to be, but they were both well accustomed to it by now.

"You know I do," he replied, giving her a small smile and a quick wink.

And, okay, maybe there were _reasons_ people assumed they were dating. But, seriously, if any of them bothered to ask, Eames quickly informed them what was what. That they were only friends and that Ariadne was a more wonderful friend than Eames could ever have hoped to deserve.

That was the least he could do for Ariadne, as much as she had done for him. Considering everything she continued to do.

That, and allow her to varnish his nails on the regular. Even when she chose an outlandish, ungodly colour such as ochre.

He was actually quite relieved that it was a neutral slate today. He wasn't always so fortunate. But it was okay; this was just one of the ways Ariadne showed she cared. And Eames was perfectly fine with that.

***

"Mom, can Eames come over for dinner tonight?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, but since he was facing the refrigerator neither his mother nor Ariadne saw and called him on it.

He swore, Ari asked to have Eames over at least three times a week, and she did it just to make him uncomfortable. 

Well, okay, the truth was that Eames _was_ Ari's best friend, for some reason. But Dom was Arthur's best friend, and he hadn't been over to dinner more than once or twice in the past year. Ariadne was so bossy and controlling. Arthur thought that Eames was lucky he _wasn't_ actually her boyfriend, the way everyone in school assumed. If he had been, he'd be even more browbeaten.

Not that Arthur cared about what happened to Eames or how his younger sister treated her best friend. Eames wasn't his business. Though Arthur would have been thrilled if Ariadne had never brought him home again. _That_ was unlikely to ever happen, however.

"Has he run out of allowance money again?" their Mom asked, concerned rather than disapproving because she had a huge soft spot for Eames and would have had him living with them if she'd had her way. She was always muttering about how it was criminal, the way Mr. Saito neglected his charge the way he did. 

"Not yet," Ariadne replied, shaking her head and perching on a stool that was almost as tall as she was, at the kitchen island. Their mother was at the stove. She was making dinner, but Arthur had just come from swim practice and he didn't think he'd last that long without a snack of some sort. Hence the searching in the fridge. He certainly wasn't eavesdropping.

"I notice you took an extra large lunch today," their mother said, turning and fixing Ariadne with a sharp look. Arthur saw this, as he gave up on the contents of the fridge and went over to get himself a banana out of the bowl near his sister's elbow. And an apple. And then a second banana.

Ariadne sighed. "He forgets to buy lunch foods or pack them, and I haven't had time to drag him to the grocery store lately. You know he's too young to drive. He might have enough to make himself dinner tonight, but I'm not sure. I'd rather just ask him to eat here, then stop at the store while I'm taking him home to make sure he has groceries."

Personally, Arthur thought that Eames ought to be more responsible and make sure he took care of himself, not depend on Ariadne so much. Yeah Eames was only fifteen, but Arthur had been pretty responsible when he'd been fifteen. He was sure that even if he hadn't had his Mom to take care of him, he'd have managed to take care of himself.

"Quit it." 

It took him a moment to realize Ariadne was talking to him. "What?" he asked, blinking.

She scowled at him. "I can tell what you're thinking by your constipated look. Quit it."

"Shut up," Arthur replied eloquently. He was a junior and Ari was only a sophomore, not to mention that he was her older brother; she shouldn't be sassing him like this.

"Kids," their Mom said quellingly, and because she was their mother they both quieted down. Though Ari did stick her tongue out at Arthur one last time and he had to practically burst a blood vessel to restrain himself from doing the same in kind. 

"Yes, Eames can come for dinner," their mother told Ariadne. "I'm putting it in the oven now, so you have about twenty-five minutes to go and pick him up. He can stay for a little while after to do homework with you, if you guys want... but if you're taking him shopping on your way driving him home, then you'd better start out a little early. I want you back before it gets too dark out. And, Arthur, stop making that face."

Arthur shot his Mom a betrayed look. She wasn't even turned in their direction any longer, was back at work at the stove. It wasn't fair; he hadn't said a single word against having Eames over for dinner no matter how uncomfortable it made him, no matter how often it happened.

"Whatever," he muttered, hating how it made him sound sullen and immature, but unable to help himself. 

Ariadne looked at him as though he'd somehow hurt her feelings as she slid off the stool. He never could figure out why she was so fixated on and protective of Eames. He'd told her what Dom had told him, but it hadn't swayed her opinion in the slightest. In fact, she'd looked as though she was about to explode, and had rushed out of the room. For a brief period Arthur had thought this meant that she'd taken his warning under advisement and was going to stop having anything to do with Eames, but then the opposite of that had happened. He should have known.

And their mother _adored_ Eames, thought he was cute and sweet and vulnerable. She wanted to feed him and coddle him and she never complained no matter how often Ari brought him home.

Their Dad was a little less swayed. He treated Eames with quiet politeness. Which Arthur tried to emulate, even though he knew more about Eames' personality than his father did.

Arthur did try. He wasn't a complete asshole, after all. And while Eames had gone all needy-creeper on Dom, he hadn't done anything dangerous, like attacking Dom or trying to self-harm in the name of unrequited love or something. 

In fact, if Arthur hadn't known better, if he hadn't been Dom's best friend, he might almost have liked Eames. He was quiet, polite, intelligent, and occasionally self-effacing. He put up with Ari's more ridiculous demands without a word of protest. He helped with the dishes and Arthur was pretty sure he was the reason Ariadne was getting a passing grade in algebra, despite the way he said that he was no good at "maths".

And that was another thing that Arthur would have found charming if he hadn't known how Eames _really_ was; the way he was so unutterably British. Or was it English? At any rate, the accent killed. Especially delivered in Eames low, slightly hoarse tones. He didn't talk much, but when he did it was like his voice was caressing Arthur's ears.

He was attractive as well, Arthur had to admit. With big gray eyes, plush pink lips, and sharp cheekbones. He didn't hold himself with confidence, but he was definitely good looking.

Well, all of that was completely beside the point. Arthur was always on alert for Eames to begin fixating on his family -- any member individually or all of them as a whole -- the way he'd fixated on Dom, even though so far it hadn't happened. Eames was pretty dependent on Ari, it was true, but she seemed even more devoted to him in return and it didn't seem to be a romantic or sexual fixation.

Eames was in the house more often than Arthur was comfortable with, seeing as he was Dom's best friend. But he tried to be as polite as possible. And, yeah, as Ariadne accused, it often came off a little cold and borderline rude. But what else did she expect? She was the one who kept trying to shove Eames into a nonexistent hole in the family where he absolutely wasn't going to fit.

Well, Eames was going to be coming for dinner again tonight, and Arthur still smelled like chlorine. Time to go and shower, so that he was at his best when the blight turned up.

And, okay, that was a little harsh, he thought, pulling a face at himself as he made his way to his room, crunching into his appropriated apple. But it wasn't as though he could help the way he felt.

And there was evidently no way to keep Ariadne from bringing Eames home like a sorry little puppy.

If there had been, Arthur would have managed it by now.

***

Mr. Saito's house was big and elegant, and Ariadne didn't like a single part of it outside of Eames' bedroom suite and the kitchen.

Since Arthur was such a jerk about Eames coming over to dinner, she'd taken to inviting herself into Eames' home as often as possible, making sure that he got enough to eat. He was too skinny, and she didn't like it.

Granted, he was only fifteen. And she was really one to talk. But she and Arthur were both naturally lean; one had only to look at both their parents to recognize this fact. Ariadne didn't know what Eames' father or mother looked like, but she knew too skinny when she saw it, and Eames was _too skinny_. 

He was only a little taller than her, but she'd have bet just about anything that he was poised on the verge of a growth spurt, and he might even end up as tall as her brother. His body was probably just waiting to get the right nutrients. So she was going to do what she could to help with that.

Eames was all bony elbows under the deceptively oversized shirts that he wore, she knew. As though she couldn't see it in his sharp chin and sharper cheekbones. Whatever baby fat he'd still had when he'd first arrived in America, it had all burned away by now. Of course it would help if he could manage to feed himself on a regular basis. But without Ariadne around to remind him, he tended to forget and skip entire meals.

He was still gorgeous, she thought. But it was kind of like the way Arthur was gorgeous. Ariadne was aware of the fact, but Arthur was her brother, and Eames might as well _be_ her brother.

Eames had long lashes and full lips, a wild light in his eyes and a crooked smile that never failed to make her smile back when he let it shine through; something he did rarely. Arthur was more reserved, and he looked more than a little like Ari herself, with dark hair and eyes, a round nose, and somewhat thin lips. Arthur was way more angular, but Ariadne knew that plenty of girls thought he was plenty good looking. Eames didn't attract anywhere near as much attention, but he seemed to go out of his way to avoid anyone's regard.

And, of course, there was the fact that they were both completely homosexual.

Ariadne knew that Eames was aware of that about himself. He'd told her as much, and she would guard this information with her life, even though the majority of their classmates would probably have been okay with it. She wasn't so sure about the teachers, though. Her Dad had guessed, but she didn't know about her Mom or Arthur.

Then there was Arthur. He'd figured it out abut himself pretty early on and had never tried to hide that fact from anyone. Their parents, Ariadne any classmates who asked. Ariadne kind of thought that Arthur had expected her to be more shocked when she'd found out than she had been, but she'd known almost before he had. Her gaydar was quite well developed, thank you very much. 

That was how she'd known about Eames, even before he'd told about what had happened with Dom. That was also how she knew that Robert Fischer _wasn't_ gay, despite being as pretty as he was handsome, and painfully fastidious in his manners and clothing. Not that it was any of Ariadne's business whether Fischer was gay or straight.... But she _did_ think he was cute.

At ant rate, she knew objectively that Eames was very good looking, but it only affected her as much as it did to know that her older brother was good looking too. She was more concerned with the fact that Eames needed to gain at least ten pounds, probably more like twenty. That was why she almost always took a large enough lunch to share with her to school, and that was why she was in Mr. Saito's kitchen right now, making sure that Eames had something to eat for dinner before she went home to have her own meal.

"You don't have to," Eames tried to protest, but she fixed him with a stern expression that she was sure her mother would have been proud of, and continued what she was doing.

"When you start taking proper care of yourself, I'll stop doing it for you," she said reprovingly, feeling a little bad about the way Eames flushed and turned his gaze down, looking miserable. But not bad enough to stop what she was doing.

Eames licked his lips, something that would have looked pornographic if-- Oh, who was she kidding? Eames was gay and he was like a brother to her, and she _still_ found it to be downright pornographic. She wasn't made of stone, after all. Or blind.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, plucking at the material of his sweater over one of his bony elbows.

"Don't be sorry, be healthy," she instructed as kindly as she was able. She tried to channel her mother when she was babying Eames, but she also tried to do it without sounding as though she was being condescending. "I just want to make sure you eat enough, Eames."

Suddenly he was right behind her, hugging her around the waist and leaning around to kiss her cheek. "Thank you," he husked in her ear before letting go.

Ariadne swallowed tightly around the lump in her throat. Eames was so rarely physically demonstrative like that. He didn't mind when she wrapped her arms around him or climbed on his lap or flopped on top of him when he was on the sofa or her bed, but he almost never initiated any physical contact. She felt honored, and touched, and her heart hurt.

She really didn't understand why everyone at school didn't adore Eames. She sure did. He was the cutest, sweetest thing. Sure, there was the nasty rumor Dom had tried to start, that her own brother had bought into, but for all the people who thought that she and Eames were a couple there couldn't have been very many giving that story credence, right? Which was as it should be, but _why_ didn't more of them notice how smart and adorable Eames was? And, yes, she would admit it, sometimes he could be kind of sexy, even if he wasn't her type at all.

To be fair, he wasn't _not_ her type. Eames was pretty, the same way Robert Fischer was pretty, and he was smart and funny and had a generous heart. But there was just something different. Aside from and in addition to the fact that he felt like a sibling to her.

Well, there was the gay thing. Maybe that was it. And he was a year younger than she was. There wasn't a huge difference between, say, sixteen and seventeen, but fifteen and sixteen just seemed... wrong. Ariadne knew she ought to be ashamed of herself for feeling that way when it was Eames, the guy, who was younger. Because it wasn't as though he wasn't mature for his age.

She really should just focus on the whole, gay and brother-feeling parts, she decided, giving the soup she was making Eames a brisk stir. 

"Now, this should be filling," she lectured Eames as he peered into the pot, sniffing with evident appreciation. "And it should last you for a few days, long enough for you to get sick of it. Just make sure you stir it up real good every time you go to get some, because all the rice and tomatoes will have sunk to the bottom. Otherwise you end up with it being too thin at first, and way too thick toward the end."

"I think I know how to handle soup," Eames informed her, sounding aloof and a little affronted. But his eyes were twinkling when he said it, and he smiled at her shyly.

Seriously. How did he not have a boyfriend, Ariadne wondered.

But, then again, how did _she_ not have a boyfriend either? She was smart and sassy and cute, she knew it. And her odds were better than Eames', since heterosexuality was more the norm than homosexuality, even in these days of open-mindedness and bi-sexuality.

Well, it was a mystery for the ages. It probably didn't help that she didn't go out of her way to declare to all and sundry that she and Eames _were not dating_. She just didn't see the point, when they never had been, but it might be limiting both their prospects.

On the other hand, it kept people off of Eames' back, she thought. And anyone who got to know them well enough to _want_ to date them would pick up pretty quickly on the fact that they weren't together.

Things were okay the way they were, Ariadne decided fondly, leaning over to return the kiss Eames had given her, bussing his heat-pinked cheek. Why mess with a good thing?

As long as she had Eames and he had her, she'd be perfectly happy.

Besides, Eames was really too young to be getting involved with anyone. After all, look at the disaster that had been his short-lived relationship with one Dominic Cobb. The jerk.

Nope, Ariadne wasn't going to let anyone get away with pulling anything like that on Eames. Ever again.

Eames was hers, and he was under her protection. Anyone who didn't get that could just fuck right off.

***

Eames' nails were burgundy today, Arthur noted. Mainly because he was wondering why on Earth his sister had chosen that color. It wasn't very masculine.... 

Then again, it _did_ match and compliment the oxblood red sweater that Eames had been wearing before he'd come into the locker room to change.

Normally Arthur did his best to ignore Eames when they were in the same space at school. Since it didn't happen very often, this was easily enough accomplished. It was mainly when Ariadne brought Eames home that Arthur had to look at him, occasionally talk to him. 

And it seemed as though Ariadne was bringing Eames home less often recently. Or, at least, Arthur hadn't seen him in a while. 

Eames was still at the age where a week or two could actually make a difference. Arthur noted absently, glancing over out of the corner of his eye as Eames changed, that he looked different, and that it was for the better. He hadn't put on a lot of weight, but he was no longer quite the scrawny bag of bones that Arthur remembered. He thought he'd caught Ari bitching with their mother about Eames' weight recently, so it was highly probable that his sister had been working away at fattening him up.

Or, well, there was no fat about it. The slight weight that Eames had put on had all been channeled into making muscle. He was still thin, so far from built that it was laughable, but it was clear that he was making an effort. Arthur would give him that much.

Arthur was doing his absolute best to not take notice of Eames as he got dressed, hurrying so he could get out of the locker room, but he couldn't help looking. And he evidently wasn't the only one.

Nash was an asshole, it was generally agreed. Not enough so that he was a pariah, but Arthur certainly did his best to have nothing to do with the guy and he knew he wasn't the only one. Nash was in some of Arthur's classes and he managed to alienate the majority of their teachers, even when he was obviously trying to ingratiate himself with them. He always looked like he needed a shower, even right after he'd had one, and his ears actually made Arthur's look normal sized, which was saying something.

Arthur would have felt sorry for him if he'd been at all deserving of such pity. But Nash was a perfectly balanced and completely obnoxious combination of arrogance and low self esteem that so often came as one and worked so awfully together. He had confidence but it was in the wrong things, and he was so needy that he ended up lashing out at anyone who might otherwise be inclined to offer him anything.

And now Arthur had officially spent too much time psychoanalyzing Nash. Ugh.

But the problem wasn't Nash, exactly. It was in the attention that Nash was paying Eames. Not pleasant attention. If he was even capable of such a thing. Well, he tended to suck up to Arthur and Cobb, wanting to join in their social circle when he hadn't earned the right.

He was pretty much doing the opposite of that to Eames.

He probably sensed weakness, Arthur thought scornfully, listening with half an ear. As though picking on an underclassman was anything other than a show of one's own weakness. But, of course, Nash didn't have the mental or social acumen to recognize this.

"Nice polish there," Nash was taunting, and it made Arthur wince internally to hear that Nash was echoing his own sentiments, however vaguely. "Does your girlfriend _like_ you looking like a fag?"

Arthur scowled at that slur. Nash must have forgotten he was here, because Arthur didn't make any secret of the fact that he was gay, and even Nash ought to know better than to use a word like that... well, _at all_ , but especially where Arthur could hear him. And Arthur certainly wasn't the only homosexual in school, even if he was probably the one who was the most open about that fact.

He was so angry that he didn't catch Eames' response. It was spoken in a low tone, and Arthur thought that Eames sounded as though he was remaining calm and collected. He was unabashedly listening in now. Because not only was Nash flinging around a word that made Arthur want to break his nose, he was also talking about Arthur's baby sister. He _must_ not have noticed that Arthur was here, because even Nash wasn't that stupid. 

Probably.

"You know the only reason she has anything to do with you is because she feels sorry for you," Nash sneered, doing his best to loom over Eames when he was pretty gawky himself. "She'll tell anyone who asks her."

Arthur frowned slightly. He wouldn't put it that way, and he was pretty sure Ariadne didn't see it that way, and wouldn't have said that. At least not in those words.

But Eames didn't try to defend himself. He just shrugged. "True enough," he agreed, even though Arthur still thought it was bull, the way Nash had phrased it. "But tell me something, Nash," Eames continued, quirking one brow in a quizzical expression, "Was the last girl you went out on _one_ date with even half as pretty as Ariadne? Or have you ever even gone out on a date with a girl?"

Arthur couldn't help it; he wasn't supposed to have been listening but a sharp snort of humor and derision burst out of him. And he wasn't the only one. There were other guys in the locker room, both sophomores and juniors, and while no one had been interfering, enough of them had caught this crack that a small wave of amusement made its way through the room.

Nash's face darkened with embarrassment and anger and he was suddenly slamming Eames back into his own locker. Before he could swing his raised hand toward Eames -- and was he really going to hit him, in front of witnesses, in the middle of school? -- a hand suddenly locked on his elbow and held his fist back.

"I think that's enough, Nash," Robert Fischer said evenly, though there was something dangerous blazing in his pale blue eyes. "You're getting a little too close to insulting Ariadne, and you've definitely insulted Eames here. Some people might start to think you're being unfriendly."

Nash scowled at Robert, but even though he was quite pretty -- with insane cheekbones, crystal blue eyes, full lips, and a hint of freckles across the bridge of his nose -- Robert Fischer was at least the same size as Nash, and so there was no way Nash would be able to take him down. Robert was on the track team and he was easily more athletic than Nash. He would almost definitely win if it came to a fight, and then his father might weigh in. And Maurice Fischer had a _lot_ more pull than Nash's father did.

Everyone knew that Nash was outclassed here, and fortunately Nash recognized it too.

Without a word of apology, not that anyone would have expected it from him, Nash slunk away and out of the locker room. Arthur made a mental note to have a word with him later regarding the things he'd said about Ariadne. They hadn't exactly been offensive... but they hadn't been far off.

"Thanks," Eames mumbled, blushing as he glanced at Robert through his long lashes, his expression a little embarrassed and overwhelmingly grateful. He looked unbearably young and achingly vulnerable, and Arthur frowned a little. Those were words he could actually apply to Eames more often than he liked, knowing the truth of things the way he did.

"It was no problem," Robert said, smiling serenely at Eames and squeezing his shoulder. Arthur didn't know Robert very well, even though they were in a lot of the same classes, but he was obviously a conscientious guy. Since he'd come to Eames' defense and all.

So, crisis averted and Eames was okay. He'd held his own verbally and Robert had kept him safe physically.

Arthur felt a little ashamed, though, as he left the locker room. Sure, he didn't really like Eames, but he felt bad that he'd just stood there, listening without acting, and that it had been Fischer who had stepped in and saved the day. No matter what Eames had done to Dom, he'd deserved better than complete inaction.

Arthur didn't feel any need to be a hero; he just liked knowing he was a decent guy.

And right now he wasn't feeling very decent.


	2. Chapter 2

Eames really hated when Ariadne dragged him to parties. He always felt awkward and out of place, always felt as though disaster of some sort was hanging over his head, even though it was always okay and Ari always took care of him.

But she shouldn't need to, should she? She should be enjoying herself at any given party, not babysitting him. Even when there were plenty of sophomores at whatever party it was, there were almost no freshmen. Though Eames was in the same class as the older kids, he was still a year younger, having been advanced, and he never felt it more than he did in social settings.

Ari never treated him like a child, of course. And she was only one year older. But that didn't make Eames any more comfortable when she invited him along with her. Which she did most of the time; possibly in some misguided attempt to get him to have fun. As though a raucous gathering was his idea of "fun". 

It was no wonder people thought they were dating, Eames thought despairingly as they showed up at the current get-together... well, _together_. 

They were at the Fischer house. Or, as Eames would say, manor. Ariadne called it a mansion, but Robert just called it home. His father was out of town on business, and that was cause enough for celebration as far as Robert was concerned.

And, actually, Eames felt a little better about coming to this party than he did to most others. He still owed Robert for saving him from Nash in the locker room the other day. And he _liked_ Robert. Or, at least, he wanted a chance to get to know Robert and hopefully come to like him. Because anyone who stood up for those smaller and weaker than themselves had to be a hearty helping of all right in Eames' book. 

Robert was easy on the eyes as well. Not that Eames was interested in him _that way_ , of course. Eames and Ariadne had discussed the guys at school from time to time, and Ari had said that Robert was for sure straight. And she was never wrong about things like that. Eames was pretty sure she'd guessed about him even before he had told her about his tryst with Dom, even before he'd confessed his own definite leanings.

At any rate, just because Eames wasn't interested in someone, that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a nice view. He wasn't really attracted to females, but he found Ariadne to be incredibly aesthetically pleasing. He'd sketched her, he intended to someday get her to sit for him as he did a likeness in oils, and it was nice sometimes to just sit and _look_ at her when they were hanging out. There wasn't anything wrong with that, and it was actually probably more healthy than being a giant horny arsehole about everyone. Even though Eames was about at the age to start sexualizing everything.

He was smart, though, and he was in control of himself. And Robert was a _nice guy_ in addition to being pretty and intelligent. That was why Eames had no qualms about introducing him to Ariadne -- not that they all didn't know one another, but Eames had described to Ari how Robert had come to his rescue during the Nash debacle -- and that was why he was completely unsurprised and in fact completely _delighted_ when the two of them really hit it off.

They pretty much spent the rest of Robert's party sitting side by side and talking. And since Ari was his ride, Eames stayed nearby, but he did try his best to stay out of their way. 

He got a few pitying glances, which made him angry, but he swallowed that down and presented a stiff upper lip, so to speak. He and Ariadne _weren't dating_ , and they'd both tell anyone who asked. Ari was perfectly free to chat up a good looking guy, and Eames would do nothing but encourage her in this. She'd been spending time alone with him exclusively for far too long, and she deserved a boyfriend, more than any other girl Eames knew.

Which might have been assuming a little too much.... Except for the way that Ariadne raved about Robert all the way home after the party ended. And the way they gravitated to each other at school. And the fact that they started to go out on what could only be termed actual dates.

Eames was thrilled. Yes, Ariadne was spending less time with him, but that was okay. Robert made her happy, made her face _glow_ , and Eames only wanted her happiness, honestly. She still made sure to include Eames in some of her activities; especially if Robert couldn't make it. She never once dropped him as though he didn't matter, and it was actually quite skillful the way she was able to balance a budding, intense relationship with Robert and her steady, comfortable friendship with Eames.

Of course, everyone at school acted as though Eames had been dumped. Which was just ridiculous, since he and Ari had never been together in the first place. But Eames was adept at ignoring whispers. Some of the looks he got were more pitying than derisive, and those actually made him even more upset, but overall he tried to remain above at all.

It was no one's business whether he was with Ariadne -- which he had only been as a friend -- whether he minded her being with Robert now -- which he absolutely didn't -- and what he spent his time doing when Ari was off with Robert. He was thrilled for her, and nothing made him happier than to see the light in her eyes when she was talking to Robert, or even just talking _about_ him.

Eames was so happy for Ariadne and so intent on ignoring the reaction of the general populace, in fact, that he forgot about one very important thing.

Whilst most of the kids in school viewed him with varying combinations and levels of scorn, pity, or indifference, there were those with a more vested interest. Or, well, maybe only one.

But Nash had a grudge and he was a right bastard. And now that Ariadne wasn't with Eames each and every moment of the school day, this gave Nash more opportunities to corner and accost Eames in a private venue.

If Eames had been forewarned of this, he'd never have left the safety of his peers. But their flat and pitying looks got to be too much for him at times, and he _was_ inclined to seek out solitude whilst Ariadne and Robert were having some of the alone-together time they so richly deserved.

Ariadne had been keeping him safe for so long that Eames had almost forgotten what it was like to need protection, to need that buffer.

It would really have been nice to have gone without a reminder, Eames thought. Especially in the shape of Nash's knuckles.

***

Arthur was a bit nonplussed by the way his sister had completely fallen head over heels for Robert Fischer, but he wasn't going to complain. 

Granted, he was an older brother, so he was pretty sure that no one would ever be good enough for Ari. But Robert came close. He was almost as intelligent as Ari was, he was good looking, dressed well, was wealthy, drove safely.... There wasn't much not to like, aside from his emotional issues with his father, and most people had that or something similar. 

Also, Arthur still hadn't forgotten that Robert had been the first to leap to Eames' defense in the locker room that one time, chasing Nash off. That had won him a lot of points, and Arthur was fairly certain that it was part of the reason Ariadne had given Robert a chance in the first place.

Arthur still felt a little bad about his own inaction. Granted, Robert had acted before Arthur had been able to. But Nash had been insulting both Eames and Ari, and Arthur had just stood there eavesdropping, not doing or saying anything. It made him feel guilty and he didn't care for that feeling. No matter his own personal opinion of Eames, bullying was bullying, and Arthur had always thought that he had a zero tolerance for bullies, no matter who they were picking on.

He hadn't really felt the need for a chance at a do-over, though. And certainly not when it meant blood and pain for anyone. 

But it almost seemed like fate when he and Dom were walking down an empty corridor next to the school library and they basically stumbled across an altercation.

Well, the word "altercation" generally indicated some back and forth. And maybe this conflict had started out that way, but by the time Arthur and Dom came upon Nash and Eames, the older boy definitely had the upper hand and there wasn't a whole lot of arguing going on.

Eames was bleeding, and even if he wasn't Arthur's favorite person this made him see red; figuratively as well as literally. Eames looked tiny and helpless, huddled defensively against the wall, hands protecting his face, but from the blood streaked across his upper lip and spilling down his chin, it was a little late for that.

Despite his history with Eames, Dom felt the same way about bullies that Arthur did, and he was the one who reached down and _yanked_ Nash off of the younger boy with powerful, broad hands, throwing him across the hall so that he slammed into the opposite wall. 

Arthur and Dom would both want to be on the right side of this when the Principal invariably looked into it, but they couldn't help it if a few blows landed on Nash's head and torso before he managed to pull himself away and flee.

"Eames, are you okay?" Dom asked, as they crouched before the boy. Arthur was a little startled by the real concern in Dom's voice, but he was more focused on the fact that Eames seemed to be having trouble catching his breath, and there was a lot of blood streaming from his nose. Arthur hoped it wasn't broken, hoped that Nash hadn't cracked any ribs.

"We'd better get him to the Nurse's Office," he suggested before Eames could answer, glancing at Dom. 

"No, 'm fine," Eames slurred, and whether he had a broken nose or not, he definitely had a split lip. He was clearly not "fine" and Arthur wasn't about to let him get away with claiming he was.

"Come on," he said, more to Dom than to Eames, as he gripped one of Eames' upper arms and tried to urge him to stand.

He was actually taken completely by surprise when Dom shouldered him out of the way and collected Eames into his arms, lifting him and beginning to carry him down the hall.

"All right. That works too," Arthur mumbled, raising one brow as he stood and followed. Someone was going to have to report to the Principal, but he wanted to go with Dom and Eames to the Nurse's Office, wanted to make sure Eames was in good hands and that he would be okay.

Eames protested a couple of times while Dom carted him through the empty halls, but then he had to lift his shirt to try and staunch the flow of blood from his _face_ and his words were muffled. It wasn't as though Dom or Arthur would have listened to him anyway, Arthur thought with grim humor. Not the shape Eames was in. He really was being ridiculous, resisting going to the Nurse's Office like this.

The school nurse was a placid, cheerful man who insisted on being called just-Yusuf, though Arthur was unclear as to whether this was his first or last name. He raised his brows, his round, brown face fixing in a look of faint surprise as Dom carried a bleeding and quietly complaining Eames into his office. It was probably the most animated Arthur had ever seen him -- aside from his usual pleasant half smile -- and it didn't last long.

"Set him there," Yusuf instructed, waving a hand toward the cot in the center of the room. "Is anyone else hurt?"

Arthur pulled a bitter face. "Nash probably has a few bruises," he stated honestly. "But I don't think anyone should care much about that."

Yusuf nodded and his dark brown eyes were bright even while the rest of him remained calm and collected as he moved to examine Eames.

Now that he was actually here in the Nurse's Office all of the fight seemed to go out of Eames, and he looked up at Yusuf with big, pained eyes. He looked all of ten years old for a moment, and Arthur actually felt really bad for him. 

"Who's going to go and talk to the Principal?" Yusuf queried, shooting both Arthur and Dom a pointed look over his shoulder. 

"I'll stay here," Arthur spoke up, casting a look at Dom. He didn't think Dom wanted to spend any more time with Eames than he had to, considering what had happened between them. Besides; " I'll text Ari, if I can do it in any way that won't have her freaking out."

Dom nodded absently, his brows were knit as he watched Yusuf begin fussing over Eames, mopping up the blood all over his lower face and checking for damage.

"She'll freak out no matter what," Dom said, his blue eyes strangely intent as he stared at Eames, not even glancing in Arthur's direction even though he was obviously talking to him. "Especially once she sees what Nash did."

Arthur sighed, because it was true. Eames looked like he was on the verge of bursting into tears, though whether it was over the thought of Ariadne being upset on his behalf or whether it was due to the pain of Yusuf pressing gently at the bridge of his nose, Arthur wasn't sure. Honestly, it was most likely to be both.

"Get going," Arthur prodded Dom. Principal Browning liked both of them so he'd undoubtedly take their side over Nash's, even though he seemed to have something against Eames. Arthur suspected it had to do with Mr. Saito being Eames' guardian, since Eames himself had never been anything but a quiet and conscientious student.

Dom moved to do as directed, then paused with his hand on the doorknob. 

"Eames," he said, low but intent, and his voice carried perfectly well across the small room. Yusuf was at his cabinet, getting gauze or something, and Eames had a clear line of sight to meet Dom's bright blue eyes. Which he did, some sort of powerful emotion in his own clear grey gaze.

"I'm sorry," Dom continued, and he _meant_ the apology, it was clear to read in his voice. "I'm really sorry. For all of it."

Eames' face went blank, as though it had shut down, and before he could respond Dom was gone, out of the room. But Dom had said it and they had all heard it. And while Yusuf was ignoring the sudden tension in the room, and Eames was very determinedly not looking in Arthur's direction, Arthur suddenly had a feeling as though the ground had opened at his feet, and he knew he had an awful lot to think about.

Because Arthur wasn't stupid, and he had been Dom's best friend for a long time. He was pretty sure he could parse the meaning behind Dom's heartfelt apology without even straining his brain.

The thing was, he knew how Dominic Cobb could be. In fact, one might say that he had firsthand experience, in the most literal sense. 

Hands had definitely been involved, along with some sweat, heavy breathing, and almost embarrassingly fast ejaculation. But then, they _were_ teenage boys. 

Arthur had never taken it for more than it had been and it hadn't happened more than the one time. Dom might fool around with guys as well as girls, but when it came to dating and relationships, he was strictly into females all the way.

If he dwelled on this fact, Arthur supposed that he considered it to be a quirk rather than a flaw. And he had certainly never come close to having his heart broken. He was well aware of his own sexual preference, but he and Dom had been friends too long and he knew Dom too well to have been at any risk of falling in love. Even though Dom was incredibly good looking, handsome to the point of being pretty.

So he could see where Eames might have been swept up in this beautiful intensity... especially being two years younger than Arthur and three years younger than Dom.

Eames himself was quite pretty. Well, not right now, with his nose, mouth, and chin a blood-smeared mess. But Arthur knew that those lips were plush and looked as though they'd been built for cocksucking. Back when Eames had first arrived, before he'd become friends with Ari, Eames had been less skinny, still sporting a little bit of baby fat but heading toward full adolescence with a certain amount of inborn grace. 

Arthur remembering thinking that Eames was quite lovely for a barely fifteen year old. Evidently Dom had thought the same. Never mind that Dom was eighteen -- though he may still have been seventeen at the time, like that made it any better -- and ought to have known better and ought to have been mature and responsible enough to leave Eames alone.

After all, Arthur knew full well that when he wanted something, Dom had no shame.

Evidently he had no qualms about lying his ass off either, Arthur thought angrily, as he seated himself on a stool and sent Ariadne a brusque text; _Eames is in the nurse's office. You should come if you can._

Everything that Arthur thought he knew about Eames was wrong, he realized, and every time he'd treated him poorly suddenly felt like the hugest asshole move on the planet. God! Dom had a lot to answer for, but it was Arthur who was left feeling like the bad guy.

Well, it had to be worse for Eames, Arthur thought with a tremendous amount of guilt weighing on him. All this time Arthur had treated Eames like he was the one in the wrong, and all along it had been Eames who had been the victim. 

This thought led Arthur to the realization that Eames probably didn't really want Arthur here in the room with him, when he had been such a dick to him in the past. So the minute Ariadne roared into the nurse's office, eyes blazing with worry and righteous fury -- Robert in tow, his own expression more concerned than anything else -- Arthur made his excuses and slipped out the door.

He had a lot to do to make things up to Eames, if that was even possible at this point. And he dearly wanted to give Dom Cobb an earful.

Only it wasn't any of his business. And he supposed that there was the outside chance that he had guessed wrong. Still, he didn't think he had done so. Not the way Ariadne had always been so explosive in her defense of Eames, the way she'd always glared at Dom as though he'd personally offended her. Not knowing Dom the way Arthur did.

Arthur was sure that there was virtually no chance he'd come to the wrong conclusion. But he would ask Ari about it tonight, once the furor had died down and they were at home. 

Right now, Arthur should probably go and report in with Principal Browning. Not because he didn't trust Dom to have charmed the guy around his finger, but because he wanted to make sure that there was no way Nash got out of being punished for what he'd done to Eames. 

After all the shit he'd put Eames through, it was really the least Arthur could do. 

Besides, he had to do _something_. He couldn't just stand around and twiddle his thumbs.

***

Ariadne was a bundle of volatile emotions, and Robert really was her rock.

She was livid that Nash had hurt her Eames, had split his lip and bloodied his nose and given him a knot on the back of his head. It was fortunate that his nose wasn't broken, but that was small comfort when his beautiful face was going to be black-and-blue and crimson for days, weeks, maybe longer. 

She felt a tremendous amount of guilt for having left Eames on his own, so that Nash had been able to get his slimy hands on him. Eames was absolutely not blaming her for this, had told her so in as many words because he'd anticipated her reaction, but that did nothing to absolve her of her feelings of being at fault. 

And she throbbed with sympathetic pain for Eames and his poor battered face. Her baby, her best friend, the boy she considered to be her other brother, and he was _hurt_ , and there was nothing she could do to make him heal faster.

She felt _something_ over the fact that Dom and Arthur had been the ones to come to Eames' aid, but she wasn't quite sure what that something was. It didn't make up for the way Dom had debauched Eames or the way Arthur had always been so rude to him, but it had been good of them.

She had to make sure that Robert didn't think that she in any way blamed him or their budding relationship for the fact that Eames had been alone when Nash had attacked him. Because she didn't. She should have made sure that Eames wasn't alone, but that was entirely separate from Robert.

Beside which, Eames ought to have been able to walk anywhere in the school, alone or in company, without being set upon by asshole jerks with an irrational grudge.

By the time she got home Ariadne was exhausted. She'd driven Eames home because no way was he taking the bus in his state. She'd fussed over him, had made sure he'd eaten and then took the pain pills the school nurse had given him -- which she was pretty sure required a prescription, but if Yusuf wanted to render Eames pain-free she wasn't about to narc him out -- and she'd wanted to spend the night, but Eames had insisted, already drowsy from the pain meds, that he'd be fine and that he _wanted_ her to go home.

Ariadne figured he was probably a little humiliated over having been beaten so soundly by Nash -- never mind that the older teen was both bigger and stronger than Eames -- and so she didn't argue. Even though she felt like he shouldn't be alone right now.

But he was sound asleep before she let herself out of the house, and even with the fact that Eames was hurt, she didn't think her parents would liked the idea of her spending the night alone with a boy. Even if he was gay and her best friend in the world. And it was too late to ask if Eames could stay in one of their guest rooms, since he was already sunk deep in a drugged slumber. So she resigned herself to a stressful evening and sleepless night, and resolved to be at Eames' place first thing in the morning so that he didn't have to spend any more time alone than absolutely necessary.

She'd been prepared to tell her parents all about what had happened at the dinner table -- with Arthur's help, since he'd been more directly involved than she had been -- and so they had done. She'd known she was going to crash hard once it was time to head for bed. But she hadn't expect that Arthur would come knocking on her bedroom door before she had even gotten in her pajamas.

"What?" she greeted inelegantly as she let him in her bedroom. She was tired and she just wanted to get Robert on video chat and talk to him for a while, long enough that he might manage to make her feel better, then fall asleep.

And Arthur looked all super-serious. She knew her brother, so she knew when something was bothering him. And right now something was definitely bothering him.

"So, I owe Eames an apology, don't I," he said without preamble, and he spoke it as a statement rather than a question. 

"Yes," Ariadne responded immediately, then, "Wait, what?" She blinked. "You're the one who stopped Nash from beating him up. You and Dom, right?"

Arthur grimaced and sank down to sit in Ariadne's chair at her desk. She frowned and flopped on the edge of her bed, peeling off her socks. 

"I meant for...." Arthur flapped one large hand as though this was supposed to explain _anything_. Ariadne raised her brows, waiting. 

Arthur sighed. "When we took Eames to the Nurse's Office today, Dom told Eames he was sorry," he said.

Ariadne wrinkled her nose in distaste, the way she usually did when her brother mentioned his best friend. "So?"

" _So_ ," Arthur's forehead furrowed. "So it's not like he was apologizing for stopping Nash. I'm not dumb, Ari. I can pretty much guess why Dom was apologizing."

This wasn't anything Ariadne had been expecting, but she thought that it might go a long way toward explaining why Eames had been so quiet ever since she'd joined him in the Nurse's Office. Well, aside from the split lip and the bruises on his ribs and his sore nose, of course. But emotional turmoil made as much sense as physical discomfort and pain.

"Ugh," she said, making a face that she readily admitted was unattractive. There was only her brother here to see it and she was thinking unattractive thoughts right now. "Dom can manage to make things worse even when he's trying to be nice."

Arthur didn't defend Dom; in fact he nodded in agreement with Ariadne. Which surprised her, it really did.

"So what actually happened?" he asked curiously. "I can make a good guess, but...."

Ariadne bit her lip and fidgeted. "I can't tell you," she said ruefully. "Eames made me swear not to ever tell _anyone_ , and I'm pretty sure you count. In fact, I'd be willing to bet you're pretty high on the list of people he wouldn't want knowing the details."

Arthur frowned more deeply, but not in a way that told her he was angry at her. "I can respect that," he said slowly. "But can you at least tell me whether I'm guessing right?"

Ariadne pursed her lips, thinking. Arthur hadn't told her what he had guessed, but she didn't think she needed to ask him for specificity. All things taken into consideration, they were probably on the same page. And it seemed as though Arthur disapproved of Dom's actions just as much as Ariadne did.

"I can't verify anything," she said carefully, because even though she _wanted_ Arthur to share her outrage and to realize that Eames had been the one who'd been hurt by Dom and not vice versa, she really, _really_ couldn't betray Eames' trust like that. "I promised Eames."

Arthur nodded, and he looked thoughtful. "All right. But I'm taking the fact that you haven't offered me any refutation as a implicit sort of confirmation."

"Really?" Ariadne rolled her eyes. She'd understood every word of that, but she still felt that Arthur was beyond pretentious for wording it the way he had done. "Been hitting the PSAT vocab books a little too hard there, Arthur."

Arthur ignored her, and now he was frowning again. "So, the question stands. Do I owe Eames an apology?"

"Owe him? Yes," Ariadne replied with blunt honesty, since this was a question she could answer without giving anything away. "But I don't think you should actually apologize."

"No?"

She shook her head, smiling a little at her brother's surprise, but mostly concerned about Eames and his feelings. "No. If you apologize, he'll know why you did it, and it'll embarrass him. He's already been through enough shit thanks to Dom. You should spare him that."

"Okay," Arthur gave in easily enough. "But what about.... Ari, I think I'd like to get to know him now. Like, really get to know him. He's your best friend and he's a good guy. Now that I'm not being an asshole because of Dom's lies, I'd like a chance to get to... maybe hang out with him the way you do?"

"Really?" This was more than Ariadne had expected of her brother. But she supposed she shouldn't be so surprised. She'd only been singing Eames' praises to her family ever since they'd first become friends. Even though he'd been soured on Eames by stupid Dom, Arthur had heard a majority of what she'd said, and some of it had to have processed.

And, besides, Eames was really good looking and Arthur was the kind to be appreciative of a good looking guy who was also a sweetheart....

But before she went matchmaking, Ariadne had to make sure that Arthur _deserved_ Eames. It was a little strange to think of it that way when Arthur was her brother and Eames was only her friend, even if he did feel like family. But Eames had been hurt by Dom back when he'd been too young to know better. When he'd definitely been too young to protect himself. And he was still so young. Arthur was fine, he'd be fine. He was older and his heart was intact. 

So, yeah. Arthur was going to have to prove himself, both as Eames' friend and possibly as more.

It would be kind of awesome, Ariadne thought, if Arthur and Eames got together. But that was getting ahead of herself. Right now Arthur was only asking if she thought he could become friends with Eames. The rest of it... well, if it happened, that could come later.

"I don't know if he's going to trust you," she said honestly, watching Arthur's face fall and thinking that he had a much better chance because he actually, really _did_ care. "And I still maintain that you shouldn't apologize to him outright. But if you start treating him the way you should have all along, being friendly instead of cold, being nice because you want to and not out of forced politeness...."

Arthur was nodding. "Will you put in a good word for me?" he asked, and Ariadne smiled warmly. Sometimes he could be a blockhead but she really did love her brother, and she wanted him to be happy.

"If I can without giving the game away or sounding too weird," she offered. "It'll be easier the more he gets to know you. But don't be surprised if he doesn't want to give you a chance, at least at first. There's a lot of bad blood to overcome, after all."

"All of it my fault," Arthur bemoaned.

"Well, Dom's fault," Ariadne reminded. "But, honestly, Arthur, you should have known better. Did you really think all this time that I'd be best friends with Eames if he hadn't been a wonderful person?"

"I should have known better," Arthur agreed, nodding, his expression earnest. "I do now. So hopefully I can fix things between me and Eames."

"I'll help if I can," Ariadne vowed. "But if it seems like it might mess up things between me and Eames, you're on your own."

Arthur grinned suddenly, smiling for the first time since he'd entered her room. "Fair enough."

"Now, get out of here," Ariadne directed, yawning widely. "I wanna get ready for bed, talk to Robert, and then _sleep_."

Arthur stood and crossed to the door as directed, but he paused before leaving the room. "Are you.... You're going over to see Eames tomorrow morning, right?"

"Too much too soon," she informed him, though she approved of his resolve. Arthur never did do things by half measures. "Wait until the next time I have him over, okay? And then if it doesn't make Eames too uncomfortable, you can hang out with us a little. I'll keep us in the den for a while, since it'd be really weird if you came into my room all of a sudden when you never have before."

Arthur nodded, gave her a last sweet smile, and left.

Ariadne yawned again, scrubbed at her face, then changed into her pajamas as quickly as possible. She had even more to talk to Robert about now. She'd promised not to tell anyone about what Dom had done to Eames, true, and that included her boyfriend as well as her brother. But that didn't mean that there weren't other things she could talk to him about.

Like the fact that she was beginning to think that Arthur and Eames might make a good couple.

It might seem crazy to someone who didn't know them as well as she did, but Robert would understand, she was sure if it.

It was a great idea, almost as great as her and Robert, and if she hadn't been so exhausted she'd have been even more excited about it. As it was, she was suddenly consumed with the need to tell someone about it. And who better to tell than her boyfriend?

Besides, she'd been going to talk to Robert anyway. It was the next best thing to having him physically with her, and since she couldn't have that she could at least see his pretty face on her computer screen before she fell asleep and hopefully saw it some more in her dreams.

***

When Eames woke up, everything hurt. For a long moment he couldn't remember why. Then he went to roll over, his entire face _throbbed_ , he remembered what had happened, and he kind of wanted to cry.

Not so much because of the pain, though that was nothing to be shrugged off. It was only Thursday, so he couldn't stay home sick, even though he was sure that the school nurse, Yusuf, would have supported him in this.

Mainly, he wanted to cry because he was feeling rather humiliated. Nash had really done a number on him. True, Nash was bigger and stronger and older than Eames, but Eames really felt as though he should have held up better. Or been able to run faster and get away. Or _something_.

And then it had been Dom and Arthur who'd come to his rescue. Dom, who had done wrong by him, and Arthur who had never given him a chance. Eames didn't really feel like thinking good thoughts about either of them, and now he owed both of them. He really didn't want to, but he couldn't change what had happened, and he wasn't going to be so churlish as to ignore it.

Dom had apologized to Eames before leaving the Nurse's Office, and Eames didn't know what to do with that. He didn't _want_ to do anything with it, honestly, but he didn't know whether or not ignoring what had happened was an option.

If anything the apology had made Eames feel worse. He didn't think that was what Dom had meant when he'd done it, but that didn't really make any great difference.

Eames was just pulling himself together enough to get out of bed when Ariadne showed up. She'd had her own key for most of the time they'd known one another and was never shy about using it. Eames didn't think that Mr. Saito would have been really chuffed if he'd known about it, but he didn't like being home alone and knowing that no one else had any way to get in. Besides, he knew that Ariadne was utterly responsible and would never abuse this privilege.

Well, aside from her taking the opportunity to enter Eames' room whilst he was still in bed.

"Hey, Eames," Ari cooed, her brows knotted up in a little frown, her eyes dark with worry. "How are you feeling?"

"How do I look?" he asked, a little surprised when his voice came out in a hoarse croak.

"Like shit," she replied candidly, because she was a good friend like that.

"And there you go," Eames concluded, smiling at her even though it really hurt to do so, especially with his split lip. But he felt better already with Ari here, and even though he was still embarrassed by everything that had happened the day before, he was grateful for her presence and her concern.

Ariadne gave him a careful hug, mindful of his ribs. It still hurt, but he couldn't begrudge the hug. Not when he felt as though he needed the embrace at least as much as she evidently did.

"I'm going to go make you some tea," Ariadne said, kissing his cheek lightly. "Go ahead and get ready for school... if you're going."

"I'm going," he mumbled, then went to bathe.

It wasn't until he got a good look at himself in the mirror that he realized how tactful Ariadne had been in her assessment of his looks. He supposed if Dom and Arthur hadn't come to his rescue he might have looked worse, but it was hard to imagine how.

"You're coming home with me after school," Ariadne informed him as she cooked them up a breakfast that he had no stomach for. With his split lip it hurt enough just sipping hot tea out of a mug. Then again, he couldn't take any more pain pills until he had something in his stomach. Dammit.

Eames didn't argue, even though he didn't particularly feel very sociable. He knew that Ari still felt guilty, even though he'd specifically told her not to, and so anything that might make her feel better....

"Just don't mind if I fall asleep and drool on your bed," he mumbled, a little slurred because evidently speaking through a giant scab on one's lower lip really hurt; who knew.

"I never have before," she replied impishly, setting a plate of eggs and sausage in front of him with another affectionate kiss, this one to the crown of his head. It felt a little strange, being mothered by a girl only one year older than he was, but he didn't really mind. Not when he was as sore and upset as he still was.

Speaking of parents, Eames didn't really want Ariadne's mother and father seeing the state he was in. But there was no way Ariadne was going to let him go back on his word and head straight home after school.

And if he was painfully honest, he didn't really want to be alone again. He didn't have anyone here; not even Mr. Saito. Ariadne was like a sister to him and she was perfectly willing to share her own family. Who was he to turn that down?

Showering and getting dressed whilst Ari had made them breakfast had been an ordeal. Drinking his tea and eating said breakfast had made his split lip throb. Somehow Ariadne seemed to intuit that his right arm ached -- possibly the fact that he ate his eggs with his left hand had something to do with this -- and so she offered to do his hair for him. He didn't turn her down, though he did have to ask her to be tender around the back of his skull, where Nash had slammed him into the wall.

"I love you, Eames," she said with all affection, kissing him yet a third time once she was done with his hair. Her eyes were dark and a little wet, and Eames hoped she wasn't feeling guilty for the fact that he'd been alone in that corridor.

"Love you too," he replied, squeezing her fingers with his good left hand. He generally preferred to express such emotions through actions rather than words, but he knew that sometimes people just needed to hear it. And Ariadne had said it first; it would have been impolite not to reciprocate.

Then she proved her love by getting him some of his meds before bundled him into her car. He didn't really want to go to school, but with Ari by his side, he was going to do okay.

If he couldn't do it for himself, then he would be able to do it for her.


	3. Chapter 3

Dom didn't seem very surprised when Arthur started spending a lot less time with him -- in fact, almost no time at al -- but then again, he was so wrapped up in his relationship with Mal that it was questionable whether he even noticed.

Arthur maybe should have been offended by this, but honestly he was mostly relieved. He just. He couldn't feel the same about Dom now that he knew that Dom had seduced Eames. When Eames had been only barely fifteen and still baby-soft, no less. And Dom was legally an adult now, though he'd _hopefully_ still been seventeen when it had all gone down... not that that would have made it much better.

Well, at any rate, Arthur didn't feel the need to let anyone else know what Dom had done; not even Mal, who of all people probably had the most right to know. Arthur would honor Eames' request to Ariadne, even though he wasn't technically bound by it. But he didn't know if he could respect Dom any longer. And it wasn't just because of the fact that Dom had deflowered a boy three years younger than him when they were all at the age where three years made a big difference. It was actually more the fact that Dom had then turned around and _lied_ about it, had painted Eames as the villain when he had really been the opposite.

Arthur supposed that it was kind of melodramatic and even a little condescending of him to think of Eames as a "victim", but that was honestly the only word that sprang to mind.

Speaking of Eames, his face was healing up nicely from the beating Nash had given him. Word was Nash's father had gotten transferred at his job with Cobol Engineering and the family had had to move out of town. Arthur suspected this was a cover story, but he actually didn't care enough to try and find out. As long as Nash wasn't picking on Eames, Arthur didn't care where he was or what he did, didn't care whether he'd been expelled or not.

Well, okay, there was a not-so-small, vindictive part of him that would have been _glad_ to know Nash had been expelled. But Arthur really preferred to spend his time and energy on more important things than _Nash_ overall.

Arthur did sort of wonder if it had been Robert's father or Mr. Saito who'd exerted their influence to get Nash kicked out of school, if that had really been what had happened.... But Robert wasn't very close to his father and Principal Browning seemed to genuinely dislike Eames' guardian and that dislike carried over to Eames, so Arthur figured it was unlikely either of the adults in question had stepped in.

Despite his own desires and his words to Ariadne, Arthur hadn't tried to insinuate himself into his sister's inner circle right away. He was smarter than that, and he knew from the wary looks Eames kept shooting him whenever Arthur came to join them in the den that he couldn't just suddenly push to become friends.

So he tried to be more friendly than polite, warm instead of cold like he'd used to be. He had no idea if he was making progress, but at least he knew that Ari was on his side now.

She could have gotten her back up, he knew. Considering all the time that Arthur had spent being a dick to Eames, he wouldn't have blamed her if she had. She was very protective of the younger boy, and now Arthur felt he had a better idea of why. In fact, he felt a little protective himself, even though he didn't know Eames anywhere near as well as his sister did. But, then again, Arthur _was_ an older brother; it probably wasn't so surprisingly that his umbrella of caring had come to extend to Ariadne's best friend as well as Ari herself.

Especially seeing as Eames was skinny and shy and a year younger than Ariadne, and since he'd been done so wrong by Dom and his selfishness.

Arthur wasn't responsible for what his former best friend had done, but he _had_ bought into Dom's lies when he should have known better, and that was something he was going to have to work to live down.

It actually helped that Robert was hanging around a lot more too; a fact that Arthur was surprisingly okay with. Robert and Ariadne were still in the early stages of developing a relationship, it was clear, but there didn't seem to be any problem with Eames being a third wheel. Robert was an only child, but he treated Eames pretty much the same way Arthur treated Ariadne -- albeit, honestly, a lot more politely -- and he never seemed to get jealous over the attention Ari gave Eames. 

Arthur was still of the mindset that no one was ever going to really be good enough for his baby sister... but Robert was definitely making a good case from himself by his words and actions combined. 

As well, Ariadne appeared to have clued Robert in to Arthur's wishes -- though Arthur hoped that she hadn't told him everything -- and he seemed to be on board with the whole thing. And since he was in the same grade as Arthur he was able to get away with inviting Arthur along to do things with their little group when it might have been a little weird for Ariadne to do so.

Before either Arthur or Eames quite knew what was happening, they found themselves the "other couple" when Ari and Robert went out on not-quite-dates like bowling or ice skating. Arthur thought it was kind of strange, but it seemed to be working. Eames was slowly warming up to him, had even spoken to him directly a few times, and so Arthur wasn't going to complain or question it.

Now that Nash wasn't in school any longer Eames was safe from his bullying, and no one else really paid him much attention, but Ariadne and Robert were still prone to hovering. Arthur figured it was better to be safe than sorry, so he couldn't say he didn't approve. Ari was still painting Eames' nails twice a week during lunch, and Eames still let her, with a fond smile and maybe the occasional sigh. Robert just seemed glad she'd never asked to do the same to him.

Then, for the first time ever, Arthur found himself invited along when Ariadne and Robert went over to Eames' place after school. And it had been _Eames_ who had invited him. Arthur tried not to get too excited over this, but it was a huge step in the right direction, and he almost felt _nervous_ , if one could credit it. Not that there wasn't reason, but Arthur tended not to suffer from nerves, normally.

Sometimes when he paused to think about it, Arthur wasn't sure how this had become his life. When the school year had started he'd been best friends with a senior, had been hanging out with all the cool kids, and looking down on Eames from afar.

Now he was friends with another junior and two sophomores, he was hanging out with his younger sister, her best friend, and her boyfriend, and he wanted more than anything to become closer friends with Eames. Who was even younger than Ari.

Arthur still liked Mal. He was still polite to Dom when they spoke during school. He'd changed his focus but not his personality, he didn't think.

But now he spent most of his free time with Robert, Ariadne, and Eames. And only one of these was a classmate. It was a little strange, but what was maybe even a little stranger was that it didn't _feel_ strange. It felt right. Arthur had no regrets, and he felt as though things were moving along nicely.

It helped that Ari and Robert weren't the sort of couple that indulged in any forms of PDA when they were out, or even when they were at home. The most they did was slump together on the furniture, and even then it was just as likely to be Eames or Arthur that Ari tumbled over top of. Of course, part of this might be due to Robert's naturally reserved nature; or more likely it was due to nurture, thanks to his verbally abusive and emotionally distant father. Still, Robert was open enough with Ariadne, Eames, and Arthur. And as far as Arthur knew Ariadne didn't have any complaints... though he really didn't want or need to know, honestly.

They all arrived at Eames' house -- well, his guardian's _mansion_ \-- and after they had a snack in the kitchen Ariadne and Robert disappeared from Eames' suite, headed for a guestroom. Arthur arched a brow, figuring that he now understood why they were okay with being physically restrained most of the time, as well as why they spent so much time at Eames' home. 

Eames glanced at him and blushed a little. Arthur grinned in a conspiratorial manner, but mostly he was fascinated by the way the pointy tips of Eames' ears turned red along with the apples of his cheeks.

He was really freaking adorable.

"I hope they're being safe," Arthur said, but he thought he sounded more amused than judgmental. He tried. He absolutely _wasn't_ thinking about his baby sister in sexual situation, because no matter how much he liked Robert, that was just gross.

Eames blushed more deeply. "They keep their clothes on, I think," he mumbled, flopping to sit on the edge of his bed. Arthur cast about for a moment, then seated himself on the chair at Eames' desk. It felt a little presumptuous, but it would have been incredibly awkward to remain standing and it would have been even more presumptuous to join Eames on his mattress.

"There's some snogging involved," Eames continued, and he looked as though he wished his mouth would stop moving without his brain's permission, but Arthur found the flush to his cheeks and the way his plush lips rounded around the vowels to be mesmerizing. "That's all."

"Snogging?" Arthur asked, grinning, still trying _not_ to visualize his sister possibly frotting against Robert in a room nearby. Much better to be focusing on Eames, even though Arthur was starting to realize that he found Eames to be quite attractive, viscerally, not just subjectively. Not that he was at all inclined to act on that, after what Dom had done to the boy. 

"Just kissing and a bit of cuddling," Eames explained, his tone a little defensive, but his face still set in an appalled expression, his cheeks still flaming. "Clothing on. It only sounds filthy to filthy American minds. And I'd really like to drop the subject now, if you don't mind."

Arthur chuckled a little. "Do you think I'd mind? That's my baby sister we're talking about. I still remember when Mom was potty training her!"

Eames stared at him for a long, stunned moment, then he fell over backwards, rolling with laughter. 

Arthur smirked, incredibly pleased with himself for having garnered this response.

"You're only a year older than Ari," Eames said accusingly once he'd recovered himself, twisting to rest on his belly, stocking-footed heels hovering above his rear, propped up on his elbows, his eyes gleaming. "You can't possibly remember that!"

Arthur grinned, curling his own feet underneath him on the seat of the chair. "I was very advanced at a very young age," he replied imperiously, even though he was totally bullshitting and they both totally knew it. 

Eames was grinning back, then he seemed to catch himself and withdraw a little. Arthur fought the urge to frown in response because he knew that Eames would take it the wrong way, but he did sober a little, taking his emotional cues from Eames.

"I'm glad you're here," Eames said shyly, glancing at Arthur through his long lashes. By this point he was completely healed from the bruises Nash had given him, and while he had always objectively known that Eames was pretty, Arthur had never before felt close enough or open enough to allow himself to really notice it.

"I'm glad you invited me," Arthur said, struggling to keep his tone even when his heart was beating a hard tattoo against his breastbone. It was kind of ridiculous to be this excited over something so simple, but....

Well, he could still recall all the times that he'd walked into the kitchen at his house when Ari and Eames were in there and very pointedly ignored Eames, without so much as a greeting or even an attempt at common civility. He'd come a long way, he'd had a long way to climb, and it was thrilling to hear Eames acknowledge this, to know that it was working.

Arthur was sure that Eames could recall the same thing; it hadn't been that long ago, after all, and Arthur had been a complete asshole. It was something of a minor miracle and a testament to Eames' natural generosity that the younger boy seemed to be able to overlook it and move past it, to forgive Arthur for his douchery.

Which Arthur was still mostly blaming on Dom. But Arthur was intelligent and logical. He ought to have guessed the truth. He ought to have trusted his own sister to know who was worth her affection and regard. To know that _Eames_ was worth her affection and regard.

Well, that was all in the past. Arthur wasn't going to pretend it had never happened, but if Eames was willing to forgive him, he wasn't going to let his previous behavior get in the way of their current friendship.

"You figured out what happened, didn't you?" Eames asked quietly, and now his gaze was cast down, his cheeks no longer pink, and his expression pensive. 

Arthur felt a little nervous, but this was coming right after they'd both expressed a thankfulness for being where they were. It was unlikely that Eames would kick him out immediately after this mutual exchange of gratitude, right? 

"Probably," he replied evenly, looking down at his own hands, giving Eames a little privacy inasmuch as that was possible when he was sitting in his bedroom, on his desk chair. "Ariadne will neither confirm nor deny and I refuse to talk to Dom about it.... For what it's worth, though, I'd like to apologize for misjudging you."

Eames shrugged, Arthur could see it in his peripheral vision. "No reason you shouldn't take your best friend at his word," he said, and he sounded a little sad, not at all angry or bitter the way he should have been. 

"I know Dom, though," Arthur growled, angry on Eames' behalf, though he wasn't sure whether it was more at himself or Dom. "And between him and Ari, I ought to have reached the correct conclusion."

Eames bit his lower lip and Arthur felt a tugging desire to do the same; bite Eames' lip, that was, not his own. Eames had such lush, bite-able, lickable lips.... Arthur had no place to do so and no right, however, and he knew it.

"I'm sorry," Arthur offered again. "Not for what Dom did, because that's none of my business and I don't need to know about it. But for the way I treated you."

"That's not why you're here, though, is it?" Eames asked, looking up and meeting Arthur's gaze with huge eyes. "As some sort of penance? I mean, I thought that was it at first, but you're a better person than that. And you wouldn't be hanging out with your sister and her boyfriend and _me_ if it wasn't something that you wanted to do."

Arthur nodded, deeply relieved that Eames hadn't misunderstood his motivation. It could easily have happened, but Eames was smarter than that.

"I like you," Arthur offered, even though it seemed too bald a statement to lay on Eames right now. Still, if not now, then when? "Once I let myself see what was really there instead of what I expected to see, I realized that you were someone worth getting to know. After all, Ariadne has good taste and she wouldn't be friends with someone who wasn't worth her time, right?"

The color was back in Eames' face, with reinforcements, but he nodded a little. Or maybe just ducked his head again, it was hard to tell. "I.... You're.... Th-thanks," he stuttered, looking so adorably flustered that Arthur wanted to kiss him,

Or maybe he just plain wanted to kiss him, adorably flustered or not.

Arthur was going to set that thought aside for future consideration, though. He wasn't going to be like Dom, taking advantage of a younger and more inexperienced boy. He respected Eames far too much for that. 

Well, he wasn't sure how inexperienced Eames might actually be, after what Dom had done. But whatever their tryst had involved, it hadn't lasted a very long time. And Eames hadn't had any relationships since then or Ariadne would have told Arthur about it, so.... Well, even if Eames had been introduced to sex by Dom in the past, he was still inexperienced in love and Arthur had the definite feeling that he was still mostly innocent, even if he wasn't ignorant any longer.

"Thank you for being willing to give me a second chance when I was such a dick to you," he said, because as long as they were being forthright about things he might as well put that out there. Also, he still felt guilty for the way he'd treated Eames and he _was_ grateful to Eames for being the bigger person here.

"Do you want to...." Eames scrambled into a sitting position, still gazing at Arthur with those big doe eyes. "Ari and Robert will be a while. Do you want to play some video games?"

Arthur smiled, trying not to look as affectionate as he was feeling, but Eames was just so endearing. His cheeks were pink again, but not his ears, and he looked happy and calm. Arthur was used to seeing him withdrawn and shy at school, or uncomfortable when Arthur was treating him badly. Even though things had been better lately, Arthur thought this was the most relaxed he'd ever seen Eames. And he liked it.

"Sure," he agreed, even though playing video games wasn't really high on his list of ways to pass his free time. Still, maybe Eames could convince him.

Besides, he was willing to try anything that put that sweet smile on Eames' face.

Oh, he had it bad. But the funny thing was, he didn't really mind.

***

Eames wasn't of a defeatist nature as a general principle, but he'd faced plenty of disappointments in his life. So he really shouldn't have been surprised when something came along to interrupt the happiest he'd been in as long as he could remember, throwing everything into complete and utter upheaval.

He was grateful to Mr. Saito for taking him in when the man hadn't actually been required to do so, really he was. And Eames was only fifteen, a minor for years yet with no way to support himself, which meant that he had to do whatever his legal guardian said.

None of this made it any less traumatic or agonizing, though, when Eames received a short and to the point email from Mr. Saito telling him to pack his things in preparation for a move back to England within the month.

It wasn't any sort of a punishment; Eames' grades were excellent and the "fight" with Nash had been almost a month ago. It was just an arbitrary decision made by the adult who was in charge of Eames's life. In fact, Eames thought that Mr. Saito probably considered he was doing him a favour, taking him back to his home country. And before he had gotten to know Ariadne, Eames would have wildly applauded this idea.

But now he had _friends_. Ariadne cared about him as much as he cared about her, and for some reason Robert and Arthur liked him as well. It was.... It was going to be an unimaginable wrench to leave them.

In fact, he couldn't really imagine it. 

"Do you think your parents would take me in if I ran away?" he asked Ariadne pitifully. He had broken the news to her the morning after he'd received the dreadful email, when she came to make him breakfast before driving him to school.

"Oh, Eames," she cooed, not taking him seriously because of course she shouldn't, but giving him a tight hug with tears in her eyes.

"I wish I could say that Maurice wouldn't notice if you moved into our guesthouse," Robert said ruefully from where he had taken over flipping pancakes when Ariadne had heard that Eames was going to have to leave and had rushed over to him. "And, well, _he_ wouldn't, but one of the servants would probably tell him. And since Mr. Saito is his biggest business rival, I doubt he'd be very pleased."

"I couldn't...." Eames sighed, still holding onto Ariadne because she was warm and strong, no matter how short and slender she was. She was strong _inside_ , where it really mattered. "I couldn't get anyone into trouble, not really. And I owe Mr. Saito a lot...."

"But he needs to know that you have friends here," Ariadne protested. "He needs to know that things are finally going good for you at school. He can't just rip you away from everything."

"You should tell him all that," Robert added, raising his brows at Eames. "Even if it doesn't do any good, at least then you can say that you tried."

Eames blanched. He was still intimidated by Mr. Saito, still a little afraid that if he crossed the man he might wind up in the foster care system or something.... It wasn't that he didn't respect Mr. Saito, it wasn't that he didn't think the man was honourable and generous, because he was, he very much was. But Mr. Saito had no actual ties to Eames, either by blood or by marriage. He was Eames' godfather, and for some reason he'd agreed to take Eames in when his Dad had deserted him, his Mum having been dead since he was tiny. He was legally Eames' guardian now, even though Eames wasn't sure how he had pulled that, but what was to say he mightn't at some point change his mind?

And yet, how could Eames say goodbye to Ariadne and Arthur and Robert without at least making an effort? He might be able to get into the same college as them, but that was over two years away, and who was to say that they'd all go the same place? Who was to say that Mr. Saito would be willing to send him to college, or even still be supporting Eames by that point?

"It'll be okay, Eames," Ariadne was saying, hugging him tightly, one hand carding through his hair comfortingly. Eames became aware that he was kind of freaking out a little, even though it was mostly internal, and he tried to calm himself. Ariadne didn't need to deal with this, and Robert definitely didn't. So even though he didn't want to, he reluctantly pulled away.

"Have you told Arthur yet?" Ariadne asked, sitting down at the table as Robert brought them over a couple of plates with pancakes and crisp bacon that Eames had absolutely no stomach for.

Eames shook his head mutely. He'd actually wanted to, had thought about forwarding Mr. Saito's email to Arthur once he'd gotten it, but sharing it would have made it seem real, and so he'd just crawled into bed and tried not to cry... too much. It had only been when he'd been sitting in the kitchen with Ariadne and Robert, whilst Ari had mixed pancake batter, that the reality of it had washed over him and the words had come spilling out of his mouth.

Now he was on the verge of crying again, and he had to pull himself together before they left for school. He might be only fifteen, but he was a man, and men were stronger than this. 

Even when they were about to be ripped away from everyone and everything that they had ever loved.

Eames wasn't being overly melodramatic. His childhood hadn't been miserable, per se, but he'd missed his Mum and his father had been more than a little neglectful. It hadn't been until he'd come to America that people had begin to really pay attention to him. At first it had been Dom, and that hadn't really gone too well. But then Ariadne had taken him in hand, and that had been one the best things that ever could have happened to him. Now Ariadne's whole family looked out for Eames, especially Arthur, and there was Robert too.

"I'll text him," Ariadne said, chewing her lower lip and hauling out her phone as Robert calmly poured syrup on her pancakes for her, then stole a slice of bacon.

It occurred to Eames that it was probably a good thing for Robert that he was able to come over like this. He had servants taking care of his needs in his father's home, but Eames was sure that Robert was more comfortable here, in his kitchen, helping Ariadne cook, playing house only not really. It undoubtedly gave Robert as much of a sense of belonging as it gave Eames, and he could appreciate that for Robert's sake, as well as his own.

And they were going to lose this. Not just Eames, but all of them.

"If that's okay?" Ariadne was asking, her brows raised, giving Eames a concerned look.

He gave it a moment's thought and then nodded. It might be better to let Arthur know himself, but he found the thought of it daunting. "It's okay," he assured her.

As Ariadne's thumbs flew and Eames stuffed some perfectly cooked but somehow flavourless pancakes in his mouth, he considered. Why was he okay with Ari texting Arthur, instead of telling him himself, as he ought to do? Probably because it was intimidating, the thought of telling Arthur to his face. What if Arthur didn't care as much as the rest of them? What if he _did_ care? 

No, it was too stressful to contemplate, and Eames was grateful to Ariadne for making the offer and for carrying through on it. Arthur needed to know, and Eames needed to not have to tell him. 

He was still a little in shock that he and Arthur were, evidently, friends. Eames still half expected to wake one day and find it to be some sort of mistake or joke, but he knew Arthur was too serious and too kind to string him along like that. He evidently wanted to be friends with Eames, for some unknown reason... and God knew Eames was thrilled by the chance at getting closer to Arthur.

Not only was Arthur a right fantastic guy, but he was gorgeous and fit and intelligent and everything Eames might ever have wanted to be... or just plain wanted. 

Because Eames wasn't going to lie to himself. Once Arthur had begun treating him like an actual human being -- one who held value to him, no less -- Eames had allowed himself to see just how incredible Ariadne's older brother really was. He'd always known, of course, but had tried to ignore it. It hadn't applied to him, because Arthur hadn't ever wanted to have anything to do with Eames. But now... now things were different.

Arthur was two years older than Eames and already looked a great deal like a adult. He was tall; or, well, taller than Eames and Ariadne. He was slender, but it was all lean muscle. He was soft-spoken but certain in his speech and he was at least as smart as Eames was supposed to be, though Eames secretly suspected Arthur was a lot more intelligent than he was. 

He had manners, but made them seem natural, not like something he was _supposed_ to do but just something he _was_. And he'd been gracious enough to apologize to Eames for misjudging him when it hadn't been his fault at all that Dom had lied to him.

Eames could admit to it; he was pretty sure he was well on his way to developing a major crush on Arthur. Only he didn't like to call it that, because he felt like it was more serious than that. Maybe he was fooling himself, but what he felt for Arthur seemed stronger and more important than what people tended to label a "crush". 

He wanted to make Arthur smile, so he could see those delightful dimples. He loved it equally when he said something serious that brought a thoughtful expression to Arthur's face. Any time that Arthur not only acknowledged Eames, but behaved as though Eames _mattered_ , it couldn't help but send a thrill through him. 

Plus, he really kind of wanted to kiss Arthur.

The things that Eames had done with Dom... they seemed so long ago that he almost felt he didn't remember them any longer. Well, he did. But they were sort of hazy, like a really intense wet dream. And, anyway, he was sure that kissing Arthur would be far different from kissing Dom. For one thing, Arthur _liked_ him. And Eames might just be fooling himself, but he thought that Arthur respected him. He knew, in retrospect, that Dom never had done. Or at least not enough for it to matter, not enough to keep him from lying his arse off out of fear of being outed or... something.

Eames still wasn't quite sure why Dom had tried to spread those lies about him, but by this point he didn't really care. Eames had friends and they knew the truth of what had happened; or maybe didn't know but obviously didn't care, on Robert's part. What Dom had been thinking, what his various schoolmates thought now, Eames didn't give a shit about any of that. He really didn't. It wasn't just sour grapes or being in denial or anything. Eames' little world was Ari, Arthur, and Robert. End of story. And that was okay.

Eames was pretty sure it was okay, anyway.... It wasn't as though he was fixating on them when they didn't return his regard. For some reason he'd always been important to Ariadne, which was amazing and downright nearly miraculous. When she'd started dating Robert, this hadn't pushed Eames out; instead the two of them had included Eames in their activities and continued to hang out with him. And not just because they could use a guest room in Mr. Saito's house to snog.

Then there was Arthur. Eames wasn't prone to having a load of self confidence; his father and Dom had done a pretty good job of squashing that out of him, in different ways. Neither had done so on purpose, of course... but that just made it all the more effective. They hadn't cared how their actions had affected Eames because he just wasn't that important to them.

But Arthur had said the words. That he was happy Eames had given him a second chance. He'd even _said_ "I like you," and so far it didn't seem as though he'd had any ulterior motivation for doing so.

Not that Eames would have minded that last, if the motivation had been sexual....

But even though Arthur was 'out' at school and at home, Eames wasn't silly enough to think he had a chance. "I like you" did _not_ translate to "I want to fuck you," or even "I want to date you." Eames was well aware of this. And it definitely didn't mean "I love you."

That didn't stop Eames feeling strongly about Arthur, of course. Reality never had any place in fantasy, and Eames had to admit that lately when he'd been lying in bed alone at night and wrapping his hand around his prick, it had been Arthur who had sprung to mind. Even though Eames felt bad about it, even though it made him feel a little guilty once he'd come.

He was fifteen, though; he was supposed to be thinking about sex all the time, wasn't he? To be honest, Eames hadn't had any sexual activity outside of wank jobs since Dom had dumped him cold. And he hadn't really missed it. Sure, it had felt good, had felt amazing when he'd been messing about with Dom. But it hadn't been, for lack of a better word, fulfilling. Especially not when Dom had turned around and.... Well.

Eames wouldn't consider himself a virgin anymore, even though he hadn't had penetrative sex, but he was definitely inexperienced. He had nothing to offer Arthur, really, though he _had_ gotten pretty good at giving head and he assumed that the skills would come back to him if given the opportunity. 

Not that this was going to happen.

At any rate. He knew why he wanted Ariadne to give Arthur a heads-up about his pending move. A part of him wanted to know how Arthur would react, how important it was going to be to him, but a larger part of him was frightened of this reaction and what it might be and what that would mean for them.

Not that there was a "them". But if there could have been, that chance was going to be gone now. Now that Mr. Saito was moving Eames back to England.

This was pretty much the worst Eames had ever felt. Even more so than when his father had abandoned him. Even more so than when Dom had dumped him and spread false rumors, before Ariadne had befriended him. Those had been bad things, to be sure. But this was worse.

"Arthur's coming over here right now," Ariadne informed Eames, even though the three of them ought to be headed for school within the next five minutes and Arthur was about a ten minute drive away. "He misspelled three words in his text, so he must be pretty upset."

Eames flushed a little, his heart beating faster, and completely missed the speaking glance that Ariadne and Robert shot each other over his head. 

He knew he shouldn't, but hearing that Arthur was upset over this... actually made him feel a little better. He felt that he could allow himself to think that Arthur... cared?

Now, if only he wasn't facing the reality of being torn away from everyone that he loved in the world. Never the bad without some good, but never the good without some bad.

Well, Eames supposed that was better than all bad. But still.

***

Robert cared about his new friends, really, but for such intelligent people, they could be remarkably obtuse. 

He would have felt bad for judging them harshly, but he knew that Ariadne agreed, and since one of them was her brother and the other was her actual best friend, Robert figured she knew what she was talking about.

He could see where they were both coming from, of course. His father hadn't raised him to have much empathy, but he'd somehow developed it on his own, and being with Ariadne made him want to flex it like a muscle that needed more exercise. She made him want to be a better person, and who better to practice this new mindset on than her older brother and the boy who might just as well have been her younger brother?

The thing was, Robert understood. Eames had been burned by Dom, he'd had his heart broken, and Robert totally got it if he couldn't bring himself to trust his heart to someone else. Even though he could tell that Eames was already completely gone on Arthur, and he thought that Eames already _did_ trust his heart to Arthur whether he knew it yet or not.

And Arthur was wary because of the very same thing. Eames was two years younger than they were, he was still young and relatively inexperienced -- not that Robert had asked or wanted to know, but Ariadne had told him that Eames hadn't been with anyone since Dom, or before him either -- and Arthur was probably more afraid of hurting Eames than Eames feared being hurt.

So they both pined and they spent time together and they were both so painfully obviously head over heels for one another, but neither one was going to be the first to make a move.

Robert had already had to talk Ari out of trying to force the issue at least three times. Not that he didn't sympathize with her frustration. But if she'd begun butting in, it couldn't possibly have led to anything good.

Hey, if he'd thought that it might work, Robert would have been right in there helping her. But they were both still so new to each other; Arthur and Eames, that was. Robert and Ari were still relatively new to one another as well, but Robert felt like he'd known and loved her forever. 

He still thought that Arthur and Eames would have gotten their act together at some point and one of them would have confessed his feelings for the other. But now that seemed a moot point, since Eames was going to be leaving. Not just the town, but the country. 

"It's not fair," Ariadne bemoaned, curling up in Robert's lap. They were in one of Mr. Saito's guest rooms together, not because they still could but in order to give Arthur and Eames some time alone with one another.

Or, well, possibly a bit of both.

"I was so sure that things were going to work out between them," Ariadne continued, even though she'd been the impatient one and Robert had been the one soothing her with pretty much those words exactly. "And now Eames is going to be _leaving_."

Robert grimaced. Eames had, at Ariadne's urging and with Arthur hanging over his shoulder, sent off a politely-worded and somewhat terrified-sounding email to his guardian, asking if there was any chance Mr. Saito might change his mind. The reply had been that Mr. Saito wanted to sell the house, so that was a pretty definitive "no".

Robert knew what it was like to be intimidated by a guardian figure, so he hadn't judged Eames when that took the fight right out of him. It wasn't because he didn't care enough about Ari and Arthur to fight for the ability to remain in their company; it was more that Eames was scared that Mr. Saito would decide he was a bad investment and dump him into whatever equivalent to the foster care system that England had. And all of Ariadne's assurances to the opposite would do nothing to sway him.

Robert had gotten Ariadne to back off with a few well chosen words in private, explaining Eames' feelings to her. As someone who'd never questioned or had to question her parents' love and devotion, it had been something of a revelation. 

Arthur, however, had already intuited Eames' reasoning. Either that, or Eames had told him. Robert had no idea which, but at least he'd been able to help Ari understand. Which, she didn't like it, but she _did_ understand, once Robert had explained it.

"It's probably better that they don't get together now," Robert said, even though his heart told him differently. It would have made sense.... Better to lose something before discovering the entirety of that loss....

Only, he thought about losing Ariadne -- to a move or another boyfriend or something -- before they'd gotten to know one another and date and kiss and everything, and he did not like that idea at all. Maybe never having something in the first place _wasn't_ better.

"This _sucks_ ," Ariadne said vehemently, not arguing with him. Robert probably would have acceded her the point if she _had_ argued, but....

"It does," he replied. Long distance friendships were possible, and none of them had any intention of falling out of touch with Eames, but long distance relationships that hadn't even started yet were another matter entirely.

"Arthur is trying to hide it, but he's pretty upset," Ariadne added, kissing Robert on the cheek as though to sweetly say that even though they were discussing her best friend and her brother, at least some of her attention was on him. "I also think he has a plan."

"Really?" Robert's brows rose. If Arthur had a plan of some sort, they might have hope yet. He and Arthur may have only been friends for a short time but they'd been in the same grade ever since Robert had moved into town and he'd yet to see Arthur fail at anything he had set his mind to.

"Yeah," Ari replied, nodding. "He came out of the bathroom yesterday looking really determined. And I know he does his best thinking in the shower."

"I tend not to spend time in the shower _thinking_ ," Robert declared dryly, before he could censor himself.

"And now I'm picturing my brother masturbating," Ariadne said in a slightly high pitched voice. "Thanks for that!"

"Sorry," Robert apologized, and he meant it. That wasn't high on his list of things to envision either. Not to mention it being counterproductive to actively turn his girlfriend _off_ while they were making out.

Well, they were more talking right now than making out. But they _could_ start making out once they were done talking, as long as Robert hadn't entirely kill the mood.

Somehow, talking about Arthur and Eames getting together as a couple wouldn't do so. But that was speaking in the abstract. Even hinting that Arthur might jerk off in the shower... well, that was appallingly specific and ick.

"Just picture _me_ masturbating in the shower, then," Robert offered. He felt like it was a weak sally at best, but it seemed to do the trick, as Ariadne wriggled in his arms until she was straddling his lap and they were face to face, her arms locked around her neck.

"Okay," she grinned fiercely, and then attacked his mouth with hers.

Not that he minded in the least.

It was too bad that Arthur and Eames couldn't have this with each other, Robert thought vaguely. But thinking about that right now would be counterproductive as well, and so he let the thought slide right out of his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur sucked in a deep breath. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, but he couldn't just stand by and do _nothing_. He couldn't let Mr. Saito take Eames away from him -- from all of them -- without putting up a protest.

Or, better yet, a well thought out and skillfully delivered argument.

Arthur was fortunate in that Mr. Saito was actually in town for a change, and even more fortunate that he sounded old enough on the phone to have been able to set up an appointment with the man himself on the day following Eames' shattering news. 

Not that he'd made the appointment with Mr. Saito; he'd only spoken with the man's receptionist. But he was about to speak with Mr. Saito now.

Arthur was wearing his sleekest, most professional looking suit -- which, yes, he had more than one, thanks very much -- and had his hair slicked back. He was well aware that he still looked like a seventeen year old in a suit, but at least he was wearing it with confidence and it was perfectly cut. He would look even better in five years or so, but for where he was now, he looked _good_.

He was going to need all the confidence he could muster, because there was nothing that was more important than this. At least not to him. Or to his sister. Or to Eames. And how Eames felt about it _mattered_ to Arthur, for reasons he didn't want to think about too hard. Especially not right now. Right now he needed to be intensely focused on his goal.

The receptionist at the desk was pretty and blonde, but she was also completely professional and only quirked one brow briefly when Arthur announced himself. He'd been a little afraid that he'd be called on his age before he even got in to see Mr. Saito, but she just smiled in a cool but perfectly courteous way and said she would let Mr. Saito know he was there.

Arthur was pretty much a bundle of nerves by the time he entered Mr. Saito's office, but he thought that he was hiding it well enough for the most part. He knew he was wearing his suit well, he didn't look like some kid in his father's Sunday clothing, he had good posture, his chin was raised, his jaw firm, and he kept his goal firmly foremost in his mind.

"Mr. Saito," he said, offering his hand and smiling maybe a little tightly. "I'm Arthur."

"You are... younger than I was expecting," Mr. Saito said smoothly, brows rising, his voice heavily accented but his enunciation close to perfect. He was older than Arthur had thought he would be, but Arthur certainly wasn't going to be tactless enough to say so. 

"Maybe," he replied, not allowing himself to get upset because he didn't think Mr. Saito had actually meant to be offensive, had simply been stating a fact. "But that's not the point. I'm here to talk to you about Eames."

"As you mentioned. Please, sit," Mr. Saito offered, gesturing at the leather chair in front of his desk.

Arthur took the chair as directed, making sure to sit up straight but not on the edge of the seat. He didn't want to try too hard, but he didn't want to appear too casual, either. It was a delicate balance to struggle to maintain.

He wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad thing that Mr. Saito probably knew what he was doing, but he could only give it his best effort and hope for the best results.

"What is your relationship to my ward?" Mr. Saito asked, and he raised one brow, but he didn't look hugely critical... or at least that was what Arthur hoped. He didn't know the man at all so he wasn't able to judge very well, but so far things looked promising.

"We're friends," Arthur replied smoothly, because it was a fair question and that was his honest answer. "He's actually best friends with my sister but I've gotten to know him recently, and I think it's fair to say I have a vested interest in what happens to him."

"Ah." Mr. Saito nodded, and he actually did look as though he understood; Arthur just wasn't sure whether or not he _sympathized_.

"I saw the email Eames sent you," Arthur said, deciding that it was best to just lay all his cards on the table at this point. Mr. Saito seemed to be a man who would appreciate forthrightness. "It was polite but I think he was too polite. I don't think he made it clear how much my sister has come to mean to him, and he's too modest to communicate how much he's come to mean to her."

"And to you?" Mr. Saito queried calmly. He didn't seem affected by what Arthur was saying, but neither did he seem to be on the verge of rejecting it, as far as Arthur could tell.

"Yes," he replied honestly. "But Ariadne has known him longer and has devoted more of her time and affection to becoming a close friend to him, so her emotions take precedence over mine."

"I see." Mr. Saito nodded and his dark eyes were fixed on Arthur's face, piercing and intense. Arthur fought the instinctive urge to fidget; he needed to remain professional. "And so your aim in this meeting is to...?"

"I'm here to ask you if you'd be willing to reconsider your decision to move Eames back to England," Arthur said baldly. No need to mince words. "He's happy here. That's not to say he wouldn't be happy there... eventually. But here he has a support system and people who love him. I'm not asking for myself, or even for my sister; I'm asking for the sake of Eames' mental and emotional health. He's actually been through a lot since moving here, and not all of it has been good, but he's come a long way and he trusts us. None of us want to lose him."

This wasn't quite the speech Arthur'd had planned. He'd meant to be more logical, to lay out the facts a little less personally. But he figured that being brutally honest might be more likely to win Mr. Saito over once he was here and speaking to him. No one had ever said Arthur couldn't adapt to any given situation, no matter how often Ariadne and Eames teased him about his lack of imagination.

Mr. Saito heard him out, then nodded, his expression thoughtful. 

"My ward's mental and emotional health is of concern to me, of course," he said seriously. "And I acknowledge what you are telling me. But I prefer not to continue supporting the residence he has been living in. Without that, I decided it would be best to take him back to the country of his origin."

Arthur nodded in turn. He could understand that. He didn't like it, but he could understand it. 

"What if I could offer an alternative?" he asked, fighting not to clench his jaw. He had to remain in control, calm and collected, no matter how desperate he was feeling. He didn't mind Mr. Saito knowing how much this meant to him, but he needed to keep it to a professional level here.

Mr. Saito's winged brows rose. "And what is it you propose?"

Arthur kept his hands folded before him, trying for easy and casual, but he knew his knuckles were white and his shoulders were hard underneath the flawless lines of his jacket. 

"Is it possible to schedule a second meeting with you for the near future?" he asked formally, chin raised, meeting Mr. Saito's eyes unflinchingly. "To discuss this further? Now that I have more relevant information, I need to go and make some queries of my own before I can continue this line of discussion."

"I believe it should be possible," Mr. Saito replied evenly, and if he minded Arthur's lack of a real answer he didn't show it. "Please make an appointment with my receptionist on your way out. Tomorrow is a Saturday but I will be here, and I have several hours in the morning that ought to be free."

Arthur felt dismissed, even though he'd been the one to initiate a retreat, and so it actually made him feel a lot better when Mr. Saito added as they both stood and he prepared to leave; " I will give some serious thought to the matter in the meantime. I want what is best for Eames, but I cannot always set aside what is practical."

"Of course not," Arthur acknowledged. "I wouldn't ask you to. But if a viable alternative were to offer itself...?"

"Then I would give it my open consideration," Mr. Saito supplied, stepping around the desk and offering Arthur his hand for a firm shake.

Arthur took both this action and the man's words as encouragement, and he smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Saito," he said earnest. "And I hope to come back tomorrow with a proposal that will fit everyone's needs."

"I look forward to it."

And whether or not he really did or was just being polite, Mr. Saito was willing to _listen_ , and Arthur was going to make sure that he returned as promised, with a solution that they could all agree on. One way or another.

He was going to _make_ it work.

***

Ariadne wasn't ashamed of it, she outright _shrieked_ when she found out Arthur had gotten both their parents' and Mr. Saito's okay for Eames to move in with her family for an indeterminate amount of time. Then she was a little embarrassed, because the next thing she did was burst into tears.

"Thank you, Arthur!" she sobbed, throwing her arms around her brother's neck and clinging.

"You should thank Mom and Dad," he said, patting her back comfortingly, and not minding that she was sniffling into his shoulder. "They're the ones who okayed it. Mr. Saito is the one who's willing to give it a try. And, remember, Eames still has to say yes."

"What do you mean?" Ariadne asked, peeling herself off of her brother and scrubbing at her face. "Of course he'll say yes." Her eyes widened, because she knew as well as Arthur did that Eames had a lot of pride despite his epic lack of self-confidence -- or maybe in part because of it -- and he tended to freak out more than a little when people did things behind his back. Not that she blamed him for that last, not even a little, but this time it was a _good_ thing that Arthur had done. 

"He _has_ to say yes!" she blurted.

"That's why I want it to come from you," Arthur said seriously, and she still couldn't believe he'd gone to see Mr. Saito personally and talked the man into this. She also could barely believe Arthur had talked their parents into it; as much as their Mom loved Eames and their Dad always did the right thing. The effort that he had gone to was just more proof to Ariadne of how much Eames had come to mean to Arthur. Not to mention how much Arthur knew Eames meant to Ariadne as well.

"I'll call him right now," Ariadne said breathlessly, fumbling for her phone. "You don't think Mr. Saito has told him yet, do you?" 

Arthur frowned, shaking his head but looking uncertain. "I just met with him a half hour ago, and he had a meeting to get to shortly after we finished talking," he said, shrugging out of the jacket he was wearing. "So probably not."

It was no wonder Mr. Saito had taken Arthur so seriously, Ariadne thought fondly, even as she moved to call Eames on her cell. Arthur looked smart and sharp and professional. He'd convinced their parents to give Eames a room to live in while he finished out high school, as well as talking Mr. Saito into allowing this.

Ariadne wanted to squeal and hug Arthur again, but Eames was answering his phone and so she turned her attention to her best friend. God, she kind of hoped Mr. Saito hadn't spoken to him yet. She was sure it would be fine, but she felt like Arthur was right, and she should be the one to give him the news.

"Hey, Eames," she said, trying and failing to sound casual. "Remember when you asked if you could run away and move in with us?"

Arthur rolled his eyes broadly, tugging off his tie and undoing the first two buttons of his white shirt. 

"Yeah," Eames replied slowly, sounding suspicious. "I was joking, though, Ari."

"You were sort of joking," she corrected. "But what if you actually could move in with us? Like, legitimately."

"Smooth," Arthur mouthed at her, his brows creasing in a frown. Ariadne stuck her tongue out at him. 

"What?" Eames sounded confused, but at least not upset or defensive. Ariadne wished she'd taken the time to drive over to his place, because she really wanted to give him a huge hug right now. Also, being able to see his face might help her know how best to approach this subject. But she just hadn't been able to wait.

"I don't know why I thought you'd be better at this," Arthur murmured, rolling his eyes _again_.

"Shut up, Arthur," she snapped, then turned her back so she could concentrate on Eames at the other end of the line. Deciding it was just best to get it all out here, baldly stated, with little chance of misinterpreting, she continued.

"Look, Mr. Saito is going to be contacting you, but I wanted to tell you first. Arthur went to talk to Mr. Saito, and he talked to Mom and Dad, and Arthur is awesome and amazing, and so the end result is that Mom and Dad said it was okay for you to move in with us until you finish high school, and Mr. Saito said it would be okay if that was what you wanted, so you don't have to move back to England and leave us all behind, and you get to live here and be like my other brother, and it's going to be _great_!" She paused, as much to breathe as to listen for a response. Uncertainty rose in her as Eames remained silent, and she really wished she could _see_ him right now.

"I mean... if you _want_ ," she added feebly. "But I thought it'd be pretty cool to have you living here. Mom loves you and Dad likes you and I love you and Arthur--"

A small choking sound cut her off there, but it was probably for the best, because Arthur's emotions weren't hers to share with Eames if Arthur wasn't ready for that.

"Eames?" she prompted when he still didn't say anything. "Don't be mad at Arthur for going behind your back, okay? He didn't tell anyone because, well, what if it didn't work? He didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, right? He didn't even tell me, and he only just got back from talking to Mr. Saito, and I called you as soon as he told me."

"Maybe if you'd let him get a word in edgewise," Arthur said, poking her in the arm. He looked a little concerned himself, though, his eyebrows denting together in a frown.

"Eames?" Ariadne really wished she could see Eames' face right now, but she hadn't had the patience to drive all the way over to his place before sharing. She didn't normally think of herself as being impulsive, but she'd just been so excited, and she couldn't see how it had been anything but good news. 

It wasn't that she was uncertain now. But the longer it took Eames to respond, the more nervous she got. She was probably just picking up on Arthur's mounting anxiety. Arthur was always calm and even-tempered, but he got so wound up where Eames was concerned. Ariadne thought it was cute, and she was one-hundred percent convinced that it was further proof that the two of them were Meant To Be. Even if maybe they didn't know it yet.

"So... I get to stay here?" Eames asked, and Ariadne didn't think she was imagining that he sounded a little choked up, but she kindly ignored it.

"Not just stay, but you get to live with us!" she said, trying to sound calm but kind of squeaking a little. "Isn't that _cool_?"

"It's... unbelievable," Eames breathed, and Ariadne wanted to think he sounded happy, but she just couldn't be sure without seeing his face. It was too bad she'd called instead of getting him on video chat. But calling him had been quicker.

"Believe it," she said, her chest puffing up. "Arthur is _amazing_."

"I.... Yeah, he is," Eames agreed, and now she was pretty sure he _was_ happy and on board with plans.

"I'm coming over right now," she blurted. "To help you pack!"

"I-- What?"

Arthur laughed as Eames sputtered in her ear. "Ask him if it's okay if I come too," he instructed.

"Eames, I'm bringing Arthur," she said. "So you can thank him in person. And I'm calling Robert to see if he can join us."

"O-okay." 

Eames sounded hesitant, but she knew him and he also sounded tentatively happy. Relief was warm and bright in her chest, and she chortled gleefully. 

"This is going to be so much _fun_!" 

Eames didn't contradict her and she took that for agreement.

***

Eames almost couldn't credit that Arthur had braved speaking to Mr. Saito for him, but it had actually happened. Not only had Arthur spoken to Mr. Saito, but he'd also gotten the man to agree to let Eames move in with Arthur and Ariadne. 

Additionally, there was the fact that Arthur had talked his parents around to his plan, but this was a little less stunning. Eames wasn't swimming in self-confidence, but he was well aware by now that Arthur and Ariadne's mother liked him a _lot_ , and that their father had at least a passing fondness for him even if he was far more restrained about showing it. That they were opening their home to him only proved that they valued him in some way. He didn't understand it, but he appreciated it at the same time that their easy generosity humbled him.

Ariadne couldn't have been more tickled, throwing herself on Eames and squeezing him tightly the moment she reached his house. Arthur was wary, as though he thought Eames might be angry at him for... for going behind his back, perhaps? Or for speaking for him? Eames wasn't sure, but whatever Arthur was worried about, Eames wasn't upset.

It was true that he had given it a moment or two of consideration whilst Ariadne had been on her way over. It had, after all, been a bit presumptuous of the older boy. But Arthur had done what he'd done because he wanted Eames to stay here in the States and not have to leave for England. How could Eames resent that? At least without looking like an ungrateful bounder.

And he was definitely the opposite of ungrateful. In fact, he couldn't imagine being _more_ grateful. Arthur had done something for Eames that he could never have done for himself, something so incredible that Eames didn't think he'd ever be able to repay him.

Even though Eames trusted both Ariadne and Arthur implicitly, it still didn't seem real until Mr. Saito called a couple of hours later to tell him the news. Eames was glad that his guardian was in town on business, because otherwise Arthur wouldn't have been able to make an appointment to meet with him, but it did make him feel a little rejected that Mr. Saito was staying at a hotel downtown and contacting him through email and his mobile instead of stopping by the house. Still, Mr. Saito was a very busy man, and Eames had been doing all right up to this point.

He'd been doing so well in large part due to Ariadne and her mothering ways, of course, but Mr. Saito needn't know about that. Especially not now, after the fact.

And for the foreseeable future Eames had Ariadne and Arthur to look after him legitimately. Mr. Saito had seemed bemused, as far as Eames could parse his elusive emotions over the phone, when he heard that Arthur's sister had already begun packing Eames' things, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I trust you are pleased with this arrangement?" he did ask, and Eames didn't hesitate to let Mr. Saito know just how pleased he was. Then he tacked on how grateful he was to his guardian for his support up to this point, hoping that it didn't _sound_ tacked on. 

Mr. Saito didn't seem offended by this, accepting the thanks graciously. He then told Eames that he had already contacted Arthur and Ariadne's parents and worked out the details with them, and let him know it was perfectly fine that he go to his new home tonight.

Eames was pretty well breathless by the time he ended the call, from a combination of nerves at speaking to his guardian and gratitude for the way things had worked out. Robert arrived and distracted Ariadne enough that Eames could escape into the bathroom to have a little cry -- a very little one that didn't last overly long -- and then he splashed his face with cold water and everyone pretended he looked fine as the four of them set about getting his personal effects ready to shift over to Arthur and Ariadne's home.

"Are you absolutely sure it's all right with your parents?" Eames couldn't help asking Arthur shyly. He kind of really wanted to throw his arms around Arthur and hug him the way Ariadne had hugged Eames when she'd first shown up, but he was too reserved and besides that he didn't feel he knew Arthur well enough. Even though they were sort of friends now, it just wasn't his place.

"It's fine," Arthur assured him, smiling and displaying those dimples that Eames so delighted in seeing. "That was why I went back to see Mr. Saito today after initially meeting with him yesterday; I had the idea but I didn't want to volunteer our home without talking to Mom and Dad first."

Eames nodded, still a bit in awe that Arthur had so successfully orchestrated this whole thing. Not to mention being in shock over the fact that he was going to be _living_ with Ariadne and Arthur soon. Starting tonight, in fact. Within hours. It was so impossible to believe and yet it was happening _right now_ , as they packed for it.

"Mom was already there, offering before I even asked," Arthur continued, still smiling at Eames with what looked like legitimate fondness. "And Dad didn't even hesitate once she'd mentioned it."

"Really?" Eames was still in shock over the fact that not only would he be living with his best friends, but he would be living with them for the next... well, _three years_ , so long as they didn't get bored with him, and so long as he didn't cock it up somehow. 

"Dad likes you, Eames," Ariadne spoke up and assured him, where she and Robert were constructing the packing boxes that Robert had purchased for use on his way over, taping the bottoms and stacking them next to Eames' desk, ready to be filled. Eames wasn't even sure he had enough belongings to fill all the boxes Robert had brought, but he hadn't the heart to inform Ariadne of this; she seemed to be having so much fun.

"He just doesn't show it very readily," Arthur added, grabbing a box and heading for Eames' closet. 

"Sort of like someone else we know," Ariadne said archly, giving her brother's back a pointed look.

"I don't know _who_ you're talking about, Ari," Arthur replied breezily as he vanished into the walk-in closet that was only about one-tenths filled with Eames' clothes. He wasn't wanting for anything, but this place had always been too big. He'd rattled about in it like a lonely pea in a tin, and whilst a part of him was terrified that he would be getting in the way in his new home, the rest of him was simply thrilled to be moving there.

How many times had Ariadne said she wished that he lived with her, was really her little brother? And now her actual older brother had gone and made that a reality. 

It still didn't seem real, even though Arthur was packing up Eames' clothes. Even though Eames knew that they already had the guest room ready for him. Even though he'd be having dinner at their house -- now his home as well -- and sleeping there tonight and going to school with Ariadne on Monday....

Perhaps noticing that he was internally freaking out a little, Robert gave Eames a silent hug and a big bracing smile before he moved to put Eames' books neatly into one of the boxes. 

Robert really had come a long way since he'd gotten together with Ariadne, Eames thought affectionately, grabbing a box as well and moved to help everyone else. Robert had been a nice enough guy before, as proven by the way he had helped Eames in the locker room when Nash had been picking on him, but he'd really opened up and become more prone to physical affection since he and Ari had become a couple.

Of course, the same could be said of Eames, though without the "couple" qualification. Aside from his time with Dom, which he tried not to think about and which had only happened in private, Eames had never been a very tactile person. 

His mother had given him lots of love when he'd been too young to really remember anything more than a warm touch and the sweet scent of roses, but his father had been far more neglectful, and now that he was gone, Eames rarely saw Mr. Saito. And whilst Mr. Saito had seen to his every need, he had never embraced Eames. Not that Eames would have been comfortable if he had done so. Mr. Saito was strong but unapproachable, like a tall stone statue that was only meant for admiring from afar.

Ariadne, though, was prone to giving hugs, inclined to sit on people's laps, given to offering soft touches for no real reason, and kissing cheeks to show affection. It had made Eames feel awkward and uncomfortable at first. It had definitely taken him a while to get used to it. But now he couldn't imagine not hugging her back, not squeezing together on the sofa, not accepting her easy love and trying to give love back.

That was how Robert felt as well, Eames was virtually certain. It had started out the same as it had for Eames; with Ariadne making the first move and sort of easing him into it, making it feel natural, and then making it simple to extend the same treatment to others.

And despite Ariadne's claim, Arthur was much the same. Not so much with the touching, though he didn't seem adverse to it. But more emotionally. 

Now that Eames had gotten a chance to get to know Arthur, now that he wasn't completely shut out, he could see that Arthur cared about people, that he did his best to make sure they were happy and taken care of. Hence his manipulations to get Eames moved in with his family, so that he didn't have to leave and go back to England.

It was sweet and comforting, and though Eames wistfully thought that it would have been nice if he had Arthur's regard even more intently and exclusively, he was going to soak up every moment he could get with Arthur's attention focused solely upon him.

Yes, he really was gone on the older boy. And that might make living with him awkward... but only for Eames, so long as he didn't act on his emotions. He had no intention of making a move. Doing so would be a complete disaster, would wreck everything. He was going to be living with Ariadne and Arthur now. Not that he'd been at all inclined to do anything that would result in him being horribly rejected, but even less so when he was depending upon their family for his shelter and sense of home.

"Just pack books on the bottom of the boxes, then put lighter things on top," Arthur suggested to Robert as he emerged from the closet for another box. "Otherwise we won't be able to lift it."

"Good idea," Robert said, instead of getting upset at being told what to do. Maybe they spent time together because Robert was dating Arthur's younger sister, but they'd become friends along the way, Eames thought. The four of them were a strange group, but they _worked_ and that was all that really mattered.

Robert was precise, Ariadne was very spatially organized, and Arthur was both, so the packing didn't actually take very long, and was accomplished much more neatly than it would have been done if Eames had been left to it himself. He'd have been inclined to just chuck everything into the boxes and sort it out once he got there, but Robert had a sharpie and a determination to use it to list what was in each box. That _was_ going to come in handy, Eames had to admit, even though it seemed a bit excessive.

Once most everything was packed, they took a break for lunch. Eames suggested they make sandwiches but Robert ordered a pizza and since he paid for it, they had pizza. Eames felt a little bad. They were helping _him_ pack and move so he ought to have paid, but he was out of pocket money for the month, and Robert said it didn't matter, he had plenty, so Eames swallowed his pride and simply thanked the older youth.

"We should take everything perishable in the kitchen with us," Arthur said as they sat at the table and ate off of napkins. "And let Mom decide what she wants to keep."

Eames nodded. There wasn't a lot in the refrigerator and pantry, but what there was wasn't going to be of any use to whomever moved in once Mr. Saito sold the place. Leaving it here in the meantime would only invite pests to enter the house.

It still didn't seem real, that Eames was not only leaving this place, but that he was moving in with Ari and Arthur. But soon enough he would be locking the door behind him for the final time. He wasn't going to miss the place, or miss being on his own most of the time, but he was growing a bit anxious about his new home.... Not because he didn't want to live with two of his three close friends, his only friends, with his _best_ friend, but because he was so fearful that he was going to muck it up somehow.

"Relax," Arthur told him softly, placing a warm hand on his shoulder, smiling at him as Ariadne got up to get a soda and Robert followed her because he was constantly caught in her gravitation field. "You know Mom and Dad love you and we're all happy to have you. It's going to be fine."

Eames fidgeted, feeling disappointed when Arthur withdrew his hand but resolutely not showing it. 

"I know, but...."

"We have two guest rooms," Arthur continued reasonably. "Well, one now. So you don't need to sweat about that. Not that we have many guests, but if we do, we still have somewhere for them to sleep. You're not a guest, though. You're going to be _living_ with us."

"And we're all really thrilled," Ari put in, rejoining them, handing her brother a bottle of water. Her dark eyes glinted at Eames, sharp and fierce with determination. "Don't think differently, okay?"

Eames nodded, swallowing thickly. He wasn't going to insult them by doubting their words or their welcome, but he still had a hard time processing that where he was and what he did _mattered_ so much to them.

It was even more affecting, knowing that not only had Arthur taken note of his growing anxiety, but he had also done his best to alleviate it. It probably shouldn't have, but it continued to take Eames by surprise that he had somehow become someone who was important to Arthur.

It was less surprising to realize that Arthur was someone who had become extremely important to Eames in turn, because Arthur was amazing and nearly perfect and the ways in which he _wasn't_ perfect only made him that much more interesting and fascinating. It would have been strange if he hadn't become important to Eames once he had actually gotten to know him.

After they were done eating their lunch Arthur helped Eames to discard the detritus and by the time they were finished with this task -- not that it took too long -- Ari and Robert had both vanished.

Eames shook his head, smiling a bit crookedly. "Guess they're taking the opportunity to have a last snog," he murmured, waving a hand vaguely toward the guest room they favored. "Seeing as they're losing access after today."

Arthur snorted. "Just as well," he remarked evenly. "It's none of my business what they do in private and I think Robert's a nice enough guy, but I'm still Ari's older brother and I don't like the idea of them making any mistakes that they can't take back. If you know what I mean."

Eames nodded and blushed a little, because he did. Not that he knew what it was like to be an older brother. But even though he was a year younger than her and not related by blood, he felt protective of Ariadne as well. And he did like Robert, but Ari held the majority of his loyalty. He knew she was smart enough most of the time, but the heart was a powerful and stupid motivator. Just look at what had happened with Eames and Dom.... 

"I'm not a prude," Arthur continued, as though he felt the need to defend himself. "But she _is_ my little sister."

"I understand," Eames told him earnestly. It was one thing to approve of a loved one's chosen partner and another thing entirely having to deal with their sex life. Especially since Ariadne was a girl and could potentially fall pregnant if she and Robert moved beyond snogging and weren't careful enough. Eames trusted that Ari was smarter than that, but it still felt awkward and kind of nasty to think of her and Robert being intimate. Not least because she was female -- Eames was one-hundred percent sure he was one-hundred percent gay -- but also because she was virtually family to him.

Eames did wonder a bit about Arthur's sex life, he had to admit, if only privately to himself. And that _wasn't_ nasty. Or, well, only in the good way. This wasn't the first time Eames had turned his thought in this direction, even though he did respect Arthur very much. But Eames was only a teenage boy, and Arthur was the most attractive person he knew in real life... or, well, the person he was most attracted to at any rate.

Eames was well aware that most people, if asked to judge impartially, would say that Dom was more physically attractive than Arthur. Arthur was handsome, true, with very pleasing and very pleasant features, but he wasn't as _pretty_ as Dom. Dom was so beautiful he almost looked feminine, and yet he was completely masculine at the same time.

Eames himself felt that Arthur was at least as pretty as Dom, especially when he smiled. Perhaps that was his own prejudice speaking, but there it was. Not to mention Arthur's personality was about a hundred times more attractive than Cobb's, always.

Arthur was out at school and not shy about it. He didn't make any kind of a fuss over being gay but he was open and honest about it, and even if Ariadne hadn't mentioned it to him a few times, Eames would have known. Arthur was too popular and well liked at school to catch any flack for it, especially not when he'd still been best friends with Dom. 

And yet, Eames couldn't say that he'd ever heard about Arthur being involved with any of his peers, either in a relationship or short term.

Eames wondered and he wanted to ask Ari, but he couldn't excuse that level of curiosity. Ari would have told him, he was sure. But it wasn't any of his business.

He was sure that Arthur wasn't a virgin. Ariadne had offhandedly mentioned that much, though how she knew, Eames didn't really care to find out. Eames wouldn't have been surprised if he'd heard that Arthur and Dom had once fooled around, but since Dom only dated girls, that couldn't have lasted. It was certain that Arthur had been with people before Eames had enrolled in their school, but if he'd been with anyone after that he'd been discrete about it.

Arthur was confident and stunning and mature enough to be dating college students, Eames thought. It was completely possible that this was what was going on, and it was why he hadn't heard anything at school. Not since they'd become friends, of course, but before. Even though Ariadne hadn't said anything.... After all, Arthur had been something of a sore spot for both of them, back when he'd been being unpleasant to Eames.

But if that _had_ been the case -- and even more so if not -- then Arthur was having an extended dry spell now. He didn't seem too fussed by it, Eames thought fondly. He could sympathize. Even if he were not hung up on Arthur and his beautifully flawed perfection, even if he hadn't been so badly burned by Dom, it wasn't easy putting oneself out there. Even heterosexual high school students had trouble making connections; it was even more difficult when the pool of available partners was so much smaller. 

Eames wondered if Arthur masturbated as much as he did. He wondered who Arthur thought about when he wanked. Eames thought about Arthur pretty much exclusively now, replacing Dom in his hazy memories with the person he cared about legitimately now. And sometimes he felt a little embarrassed and ashamed when he saw Arthur in school or when they were hanging out... but not enough to cause him to stop.

"Are you feeling okay?" Arthur asked, gazing at him a trifle anxiously. Eames was aware that he was flushed, but there was no way he could inform Arthur of the cause for it.

Instead he nodded. "Couldn't be better," he forced himself to say cheerfully. Because he was going to be moving in with his two most important people, and that was so amazing that the reality of it hadn't really completely processed yet.

He was going to be getting off in his own room to thoughts of Arthur, when Arthur was getting off just down the hall, Eames realized in a sudden rush of heat and an even darker flush.

"Let's get some boxes and get this food packed," he suggested, almost frantically, ready to flee the kitchen whether Arthur followed him or not.

"All right," Arthur replied easily enough, but Eames knew he was keeping a close eye on him as they fetched the boxes and began packing. 

It was unnerving but also strangely flattering, having Arthur's full attention like this, Eames thought. Even if it was only because he was behaving in a peculiar fashion. Even if Arthur just wanted to be sure he was okay.

This wasn't the first time it had only been the two of them. Ari and Robert _did_ like to vanish off together, and Eames didn't blame them. 

And, like every time before, he treasured these moments when he and Arthur were alone. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but he wasn't enough of a goof that he was going to question it. 

He still loved Ari with all his heart. She was his best friend, she was like a sister, she had stood by him and given him affection and attention when no one else had, and she deserved his loyalty forever for that fact alone. Not to mention that she was worthy of love all on her own merits, completely aside from gratitude. Eames didn't feel he owed her; he just loved her.

But what he felt for Arthur was just as intense and a fair sight more complicated.

Before, when Eames had only been familiar with Arthur as Ari's older brother and Dom's friend, back when Arthur had ignored him and treated him coolly, Eames had still thought that Arthur was worth getting to know but he hadn't had any hope of doing so.

Now that it had somehow inexplicably happened and he _was_ getting to know Arthur, Eames found that he'd been right... and then some.

Arthur was handsome and had adorable dimples when he smiled. He had large, graceful hands, long legs, and the most gorgeous rear end that Eames had ever seen. He was warm and caring, he laughed easily, he touched with careless affection, he was intelligent and moral and ingenious. He'd gone to Mr. Saito and found a way to keep Eames in the country, he'd opened his home and his heart to Eames.... And that was only a fraction of the entirety of who and what Arthur was.

Eames wasn't going to break his own heart by reading too much into what Arthur had done for him. He thought that if Robert had been in the same position Eames had been in, Arthur probably would have done the same for him. 

But the fact that Arthur had done what he had done for _Eames_ , without expecting anything at all in return... well, it made Eames' heart thump, it filled him with warmth, it made him feel loved... even though he knew that Arthur didn't _love_ him, not the way Ari and Robert loved one another.

And Eames didn't.... 

Well. 

He froze, holding a package of dry rice, poking at his feelings for Arthur in almost the same way he had poked at the split lip Nash had given him whilst it had been healing. This was a similar sensation, an ache that was settled in the middle of him rather than in his mouth. More emotional than physical, but real nonetheless.

Eames wasn't quite sure.... He knew that he loved Arthur the same way he loved Ariadne, and in addition to that he found Arthur to be extremely desirable....

Did that equal being _in love_ with him? And if so, how great a disaster was that going to be?

"Eames?"

Arthur's hand was warm and heavy between his shoulderblades, somehow feeling far more intimate there than it would have been if he'd placed it on Eames' shoulder. It seared through the material of his shirt, and Eames wanted him to never, ever move it, and yet he couldn't share what he was thinking and feeling with Arthur. Not and risk destroying everything that he had.

"I'm fine," he hurried to say, giving Arthur a wide smile because he knew Arthur liked it, even though he usually tried to smile with closed lips in order to hide his crooked teeth. "Honestly."

"All right," Arthur said skeptically, and Eames was about ready to come out of his skin when his large hand moved in warm spirals that were probably supposed to be soothing but which were more likely than not to having him sporting a hard-on within moments.

"Maybe we should have some water and sit down, though," Arthur suggested, completely unaware of the affect he was having on Eames, no doubt reading his flush as overexertion or some such, even though they'd only recently finished sitting down to lunch. "Then we'll bang on the door until Ari and Robert come out to help us load the car."

Eames nodded silently, biting at his lower lip and forcing himself to step away from Arthur's hand before Arthur could remove it himself. 

Contemplating any sort of a relationship other than friendship with Arthur would be nothing but a fantasy, and would make things more awkward when they were about to be living in the same house. Eames was going to _have_ to get his emotions in check.

Nothing, however, was going to keep him from thinking about Arthur when he jerked off in private. Eames tried to be a good person, but _no one_ could be _that_ good.

And to be honest, he didn't even want to be.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur was a little concerned about Eames, but he knew better than to push when Eames said he was fine. It was a little surprising to realize that he knew Eames so well, but it was a pleasant realization.

Even though he'd resolved not to be like Dom and take advantage of Eames in any way, that didn't mean that Arthur was blind to either Eames' attractiveness or Arthur's own attraction to Eames. It had definitely gone beyond wanting to simply be his friend a while ago....

And yet Arthur was two years older than Eames, and at the age they were now that made a difference. He wasn't _three_ years older, like Dom, but he also didn't intend on following in Dom's footsteps and do anything to hurt Eames.

Besides, he was still just counting himself fortunate that Eames was willing to be his friend, after such a long period of Arthur treating him so poorly. He wasn't under any illusion that Eames wanted more from him than friendship. 

And that was okay with Arthur, especially since he still felt he was earning Eames' trust, but it didn't mean he didn't worry and it didn't mean he didn't want....

Whatever had caused Eames to flush so badly in the kitchen seemed to have passed by the time they ousted Ariadne and Robert from the guest room and got all of Eames' things loaded into their cars.

Eames looked thoughtful and a little sad, but not _very_ sad, as he locked the door of the mansion he'd been living in for the final time.

"I'll miss the kitchen," he said, glancing at Ariadne. "And the way you used to cook for me, even though you didn't have to."

"I _wanted_ to," Ari said, in a chiding tone, but she seemed at least as sentimental as Eames and there was no bite to her words. "I'll miss the kitchen too," she continued, stepping forward and sweeping Eames into her arms. "But I'm super-glad to be taking you home with me."

"With us," Arthur supplied. He didn't usually feel the need to assert himself like that, was usually content to let people have their own moments, but it had been _his_ visit to Mr. Saito that had gotten them this situation in the first place.

"Of course," Eames replied, smiling shyly at him over Ariadne's head. 

"I'm gonna miss the guest room," Robert muttered, low enough that Arthur didn't think he meant anyone to hear, and he stolidly ignored that, because euw. Just... euw.

"Let's go," he said, because getting Eames back to their place and settled was the priority now. Not that he minded Eames taking a moment to say goodbye to the place he'd been living for nearly a year, but it hadn't really ever been _home_. Not when it had been so big and empty, with Eames' guardian almost never there. 

It was time to get him into Arthur and Ariadne's home. Which was smaller and more crowded, but warmer and happier, and it had both Arthur and Ariadne living in it. Soon all three of them would be living there -- plus Arthur and Ariadne's parents, of course -- and it was going to be awesome.

Arthur was willing to bet, though, that Eames was going to regret giving up having his own bathroom. 

Especially the first school day morning that Ariadne spent half an hour getting ready.

+++

Getting settled into his new room was a little rough on Eames, but getting settled in his new _home_ was easy.

He'd already spent so much time in Ariadne and Arthur's house, especially after he and Arthur had become friends, that there wasn't really anything new there... except that he didn't have to leave for Mr. Saito's silent, lonely manor at the end of the day. He stayed every night, and when he retired he did so to his very own bedroom.

He unpacked his clothing first. There was a narrow closet -- much more suited in size to his wardrobe than the walk-in closet at the manor -- and a dresser. He wanted to unpack his books next, but since other things were piled on top of them, he ended up unloading most everything.

Not that he had much. His father had traveled a lot and so Eames hadn't had much, growing up. Mr. Saito had given him a generous allowance, telling him to spend anything left over after groceries on anything that he wanted, but he had never really wanted much.

So it didn't really take him long to unpack, and once he did, his room still felt... empty. Impersonal. Even though it was a fair bit smaller than his room at the manor.

There was a plush lizard Ariadne had gotten him, which he put on the shelf with his books. Robert had given him some puzzles, which was odd, but Eames set those carefully on the bottom shelf and promised himself he'd try doing them some time. And the sketchbook and pastels that Arthur had thrust at him once, after admiring some silly sketches Eames had done in the margins of his English notes during a boring class ended up right there on the desk, along with his laptop and other stationary.

Eames still blushed, thinking that Arthur had bought the sketchbook and pencils just for him. And he felt bad for not having used them so far, but he'd yet to feel the tug of Inspiration. Things had been too stressful lately, he mused. But they ought to calm soon enough.

He felt at home in the den, in the kitchen, in Ariadne's bedroom... but he still felt like an awkward guest in his own room. He sort of assumed that feeling would pass, but in the meantime it made him feel a bit edgy.

Ariadne did what she could to ease his transition, but shortly after he had moved, she and Robert had realized that they could use the guesthouse on his father's property the same way they'd been using the guest _rooms_ in Mr. Saito's manor, and that meant that she was absent a lot more than she had used to be.

Eames missed her, but he didn't actually mind too much. He loved her like a sister, it was true, but she really was trying a little too hard. And he was friends with Arthur now... not to mention possibly in love with the older boy, and so time spent alone with him was golden.

He still treasured any time spent with Ariadne, of course. And Robert was still a fine fellow who'd stood up to Nash for Eames when no one else had done, that day in the locker room. But being alone with Arthur.... Well, it was both glorious and agonizing at once.

Not to mention, even though Ari had been so careful to always make Eames feel welcomed and he'd never _really_ felt as though he was a third wheel, he was pleased now that she was able to spend some one-on-one time with Robert. They were wonderful people who made a glorious couple, and they deserved to spend time getting to know one another without either Eames or Arthur present.

Though Eames resolutely did _not_ think about the ways in which they were getting to know one another. He comforted himself with the knowledge that they were both intelligent enough to know to use birth control. 

With Ariadne so often away, now, Arthur slid in smoothly to fill that space. The four of them still hung out, and Ari was still painting Eames' nails twice a week at school, during lunch, but in the afternoon, at home after school, it was very often Arthur and Eames alone.

This was doing nothing to quell Eames' growing feelings for Arthur. In fact, it only exacerbated the situation. Being around Arthur made Eames flush hot, made his heart beat faster, made him get hard in his pants....

Eames was a fifteen year old boy. Wanking it at least twice daily had been routine for quite some time. But now it became a dire necessity, sharing a house with Arthur as he was.

Not just the house, but the _bathroom_. When he bathed in the morning, minutes after Arthur had finished, Eames breathed in the faint scent of Arthur that lingered in the shower. Mostly it was the cologne and bathing supplies that Arthur used, but Eames was sure he could also catch a whiff of Arthur's clean skin and fresh sweat. It might be just his imagination, but it was enough to have him wrapping his hand around his prick and he came hard with the visualization of Arthur having done the same, right where he was standing, within the same quarter of an hour.

Eames thought that he might go mad, but he wouldn't have given up this situation for anything and he still owed Arthur for getting it set up with Mr. Saito.

It didn't help his near perpetual erection that the closer he and Arthur became, the more handsy Arthur got. Eames had zero complaints over this, and it wasn't like the way Ariadne would fall all over his lap if she felt like it, but Arthur would touch him, a warm palm to his shoulderblade, a lingering pat to his chest, and Arthur kept _smiling_ at Eames. With those dimples and the warm brown eyes that crinkled at the corners and a light in his gaze that clearly proclaimed that he _meant_ his smiles.

And Eames found himself smiling back, even though he knew better, even though he knew that his teeth were wonk. To his credit, Arthur didn't seem to mind his ugly chompers. Ariadne had told him once that Arthur found them "charming" but Eames was pretty sure she'd just been putting the wind up, and that this was a patented untruth.

Not that Ariadne really ever lied to him....

But that was easier to believe than that Arthur liked Eames' ugly teeth.

When Eames tossed off in the shower it was to the thought of Arthur bathing there as well. When he tossed off at night in his bed it was to the memory of Arthur's hand resting on him, somewhere, anywhere, large and strong but so gentle.... 

Eames had begun using his allowance to buy himself boxes of tissue and he had gone most of the way through an industrial size bottle of scent-free lotion. It was a little embarrassing -- even though the clerk at the grocery hadn't seemed to care what he was buying -- but this was a matter of _survival_.

He was virtually certain that Arthur had no idea what he was doing to him. Arthur was a sweet and conscientious guy who would never tease anyone deliberately or cause someone else discomfort if he could prevent it. This was all on Eames; the way his brain and his body were responding to Arthur's perfectly normal friendly actions.

It wasn't Arthur's fault that Eames' body was hyper-reactive to every touch, nor was it Eames' fault. It just _was_ and so Eames dealt with it as best he could.

Even though that meant an awful lot of self-administered tug-jobs.

It was what Eames had to do in order to deal with living in the same house as the object of his affections.

***

Arthur really, really didn't want to think about what his baby sister was getting up to with Robert, and so he turned most of his attention and focus on Eames.

This wasn't really fair to Eames, but it was no hardship. Arthur had sincere feelings for the younger boy, so it wasn't exactly wrong either.

Except for the way that it kind of was. Eames was only fifteen and he'd already been despoiled and had his heart broken by Dom. Hell, he'd been victimized and then bullied, largely because of Dom and his selfish lies. Granted, Nash had been acting on his own, but there were other kids at school who tended to speak badly of Eames whether he was in earshot or not, and _that_ was definitely Dom's fault.

Arthur kind of wished he could punch his former best friend in the nose. He'd have deserved it. 

But he couldn't do so without getting into trouble, and besides, it was a wrong against Eames so it was Eames' right to get vengeance, not Arthur's. Even though Arthur hated when someone he cared about suffered, for any reason.

Eames didn't seem to mind horribly. He was cheerful at home, fitting in right away, quiet and shy but clearly happy to be there. He'd already become family. And at school he was withdrawn but not to the point that Arthur worried about him. He spent time with Arthur, Robert, and Ariadne, together or separately. He ignored those who spoke poorly about him, and Arthur hoped it was because he really didn't care, and wasn't just a brave facade he was putting on.

For the first time ever, Arthur found himself glad that he was still a junior. Before, he'd itched to graduate along with Dom and go off to college at the same time as his best friend. But his priorities had changed. Now he was grateful that he'd have another year of high school, another year of attending in the same building as Eames, even if they were, obviously, in all different classes.

Actually, if he'd tried harder Arthur _could_ have been advanced. But he'd seen what sort of crap kids had to deal with when they were skipped ahead. He'd seen what _Eames_ had had to deal with. One friend and a lot of people brushing him off.... Of course, Arthur could have overcome all of that easily enough. Eames was shy and Arthur was confident. But it had been easier to keep his schoolwork to a level only slightly above his classmates than it would have been to adjust to a whole new set of classmates.

Arthur wasn't lazy or afraid. He just saw the value in making sure that he was always slightly underestimated. Then he had room to work around people and occasionally surprise them when and if he felt like it.

At any rate, it had worked out for the best, because instead of leaving town for college somewhere after graduation he still had another year of sharing his living quarters with Eames.

Pleasurable torment that it was, considering how badly he was coming to want to just drag Eames into his bed and thoroughly claim him.

But, again, that was what Dom had done, and that was what Arthur _would not do_. No matter how badly he wanted to, and how much more badly he wanted to the more he got to know Eames.

They had so many interests in common. Art, literature, and a mutual hatred for reality television, though for different reasons. They usually agreed on food, never agreed on beverages, and Eames had asked Arthur for guidance as he began working-out in an earnest effort to put on more muscle mass.

It was like a subtle form of torture, Arthur sometimes thought. Being so close to Eames and having the other boy look to him for so much, trust him with so much of himself, and yet to be unable to take that last step and just _kiss_ those lush red lips that tempted him so badly.

On the other hand, Arthur wouldn't have given up Eames' friendship for anything. Setting his own desires and feelings aside, he'd come to think of Eames as his closest friend. Dom was really nothing but a memory, though Arthur nodded at him sometimes from across the cafeteria on his way to sit with Ariadne, Robert, and Eames. Dom didn't seem to mind. He might miss Arthur's company, but he was all caught up in his relationship with Mal, and he never sought Arthur out. 

It had been silent and almost incidental, but Arthur had made his opinion on the whole situation with Eames known and had clearly chosen his side. Dom was probably just glad not to be fielding that punch to the nose that Arthur still wanted to give him. He definitely knew how protective Arthur could be, and had to know that Arthur would be feeling so toward Eames.

Case in point. Arthur walked into the cafeteria with the bag lunch Ariadne had made for him in hand, letting his eyes sweep the room, and there was Dom in one corner with his golden hair sunk close to Mal's stylish brunette bob, and there in the opposite corner was Ariadne bent over Eames' hands, as she diligently polished his nails. Robert had yet to join them; swim team had gotten out early but track was running late, so he'd probably be in later.

Arthur kept trying to convince Robert to join the swim team, and Robert kept trying to convince Arthur to join the track team. Arthur didn't think either of them was ever going to give in, but they both kept trying. 

At least they didn't have a rivalry going on. Arthur knew who Ari would end up cheering for if that had happened, and his pride couldn't take it.

"Hey, Arthur," Eames drawled, smiling up at Arthur. It was the closed-lip smile because they were in school, but Arthur kind of liked that Eames kept the full, adorable smile only for him, in private. Well, Arthur and Ari and their parents. But still.

"Hey, Eames," Arthur greeted, and as always he suffered a moment of indecision. Sit next to Eames so that he could feel his body heat and smell the clean-sweat smell of his skin, or sit across from him so that he could see every expression that crossed the younger boy's face.

In the end he did what he usually did and sat beside Eames; mostly because he knew that Robert would want the spot next to Ariadne.

"Ari make your lunch too?" he asked, knocking his shoulder into Eames'. He already knew the answer to that; as if Ariadne would make _his_ lunch and not Eames' as well.

"Uh-huh," Eames nodded, indicating the bag beside his elbow, but he left his hands where they were. 

Ariadne was painting his nails a matte black, and Arthur snorted internally, because he already knew that the polish was going to chip faster than usual. Thanks to his baby sister and Eames, he knew far more about nail polish than probably any other guy his age; at least one who attended _this_ school. Far more than he'd ever wanted to, but for some reason he found it cute and charming that Eames let Ari paint his nails and that he wound up bitching about the chips, though only to Arthur, and only where Ari couldn't hear.

Personally, Arthur liked it when Eames' nail polish chipped and wore off around the edges. It made him look more like a boy wearing polish and less like a girl with a perfect manicure. He'd told Eames so, even, and had been both amused and captivated by the warm flush this had brought to the apples of Eames' cheek, the bridge of his nose, and the tips of his pointy ears.

"You'll be able to eat in a few minutes," Ariadne informed Eames, even though he hadn't complained.

"I know," he said evenly, smiling fondly at her bowed head.

Arthur smiled as well, at both of them, and then dug into his own bag. He didn't need to wait, and after swimming hard and fast for the better part of an hour he was starving. 

He bit into the generous sandwich Ariadne had packed him, glad that she'd left off the onions. Usually their Mom made them their lunches, but sometimes she was busy and Ari always volunteered before Arthur could. It wasn't that Arthur couldn't make food.... But a hot meal was more his forte than a bag lunch was. His sandwiches tended to fall apart and whenever he tried to include a dessert it either got squashed or leaked everywhere, depending on what it was. 

Eames had offered more than once to make their lunches, but Ari had told him no, and he'd politely bowed to her superior will. Arthur called her bossy and controlling, but Eames was more tactful than that.

While Arthur ate and Ariadne screwed the cap back on the polish bottle then turned her head to kiss Robert in greeting as he slid onto the seat beside her, Arthur took note of the fact that Eames' shoulder was almost even with his own. That was new. But then, Eames was fifteen, and he was eating regularly and well now -- or would be once his polish dried -- so it only made sense that he'd hit a grown spurt when Arthur hadn't really been looking. 

Arthur eyed Eames as casually as he could while Eames waved his hands a little, then began carefully plucking things out of his lunch bag. Eames was closer to Arthur's size than Ariadne's now, and Arthur hadn't even really noticed it happening. Eames' sleeves didn't go all the way to his knuckles anymore, and Arthur could see the material of his shirt stretching over his biceps as he moved his arms.

His brows rose. Huh. All the working out really had done Eames some good. He was still about as wiry and lean as Arthur was, and he was still a bit shorter, but he wasn't any longer nearly as tiny and thin as Ariadne.

He'd been a slip of a thing when he'd first moved here, and Arthur still held that Dom was a huge pervert for having seduced him when he'd been so young and virginal. But that was in the past. Eames was still only fifteen, was very clearly two years younger than Arthur, but he was beginning to grow into the man he would someday be, and he looked more like someone who could hold their own in bed with another guy.

Arthur swallowed his mouthful and tried not to scowl, firmly telling his hard-on to go away. The school cafeteria was not the place for an erection, nor was it the place to be thinking filthy thoughts about the boy sitting next to him. 

Even though the heated length of Eames' thigh was pressing against his own, firm and solid and awfully tempting. If Arthur switched to eating with one hand, he'd be able to reaching under the table and palm the hard muscles....

But he had no right to do so. He and Eames were just friend, nothing like that, and Eames probably didn't even know he was touching Arthur.

While Arthur wrestled internally with himself, Ariadne was talking about some movie she wanted to see with Robert, trying to convince him that a fusion of sci fi and kung-fu wasn't a waste of time, and Eames was smirking at them as he ate twice as fast as Arthur, as though to make up for the time he'd lost waiting for his nails to dry.

Arthur had no desire to see the film in question, and he was glad that Ari wasn't insisting that he join them. That was one of the things he disagreed with Eames on; as far as Arthur was concerned, a movie that was bad couldn't be entertaining _because_ it was bad. That wasn't the way cinema worked. Eames bought into the whole "So bad it's good" thing, though he at least admitted that it was rarely applicable.

"Eames, do you wanna see it?" Ari asked, startling Eames as he stole some chips from her lunch. He looked up at her with big eyes, and Arthur placing a hand on his upper back before he thought. He knew that Eames probably didn't need to be grounded that way, but sometimes he looked as though he did.

"Uh." Eames popped the chips in his mouth and chewed before replying. "I thought you guys were going on a date."

Ariadne scoffed. "Please. If it was a date, we'd be going to see a chick flick."

"What?" Arthur couldn't help blurting. Since when did either Ari or Robert go see chick flicks?

"Seeing a movie we _want_ to see isn't a date," Ariadne declared, which didn't clarify things much until she continued, "Going on a date requires a movie you can make out through."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Ari and Robert had an entire guesthouse where they could do far more than make out. Why waste the money on a movie ticket if they weren't going to watch the film?

Robert was blushing a little and Arthur badly wanted to laugh at him, but he restrained himself. Better not to get on Ariadne's bad side. Ever. He'd spent enough time there back when he'd been treating Eames coldly.

"No thank you, Ari," Eames politely declined, beginning to neatly pack away the detritus from his lunch. "But I appreciate the invite."

Robert started whining about how he really didn't want to see the movie, but Arthur tuned him out in favor of speaking to Eames.

"Did you want to go clothes shopping?" he asked quietly, as Ariadne told Robert on no uncertain terms that he _was_ taking her to see the movie. "You're starting to grow out of your current wardrobe."

Eames blinked at him, long lashes flickering, and he looked torn between delight and dismay. "I won't come out looking like you, will I?"

Arthur wasn't insulted; he really couldn't imagine Eames dressing the way he dressed. It would have looked good, but also ridiculous. On the other hand, he was pretty sure he could see Ariadne's hand a little too heavily in the things that Eames wore now. He was curious to see how Eames would dress himself if he was given free choice on the matter.

Ariadne was currently making a deal with Robert, that if the movie really was too awful to enjoy then they could spend it making out after all, and Arthur hurried to complete his conversation with Eames before she realized what they were talking about.

"Not at all," he assured Eames. "Not unless you want to. But you might not come out looking quite so much like a hipster, either."

Eames pulled an adorable face and glanced over at Ari himself. "Okay, sure," he said, and smiled shyly at Arthur.

Arthur did his very best to _not_ think about Eames trying on clothes for him, stripping down in the dressing rooms, and tried to will his hard-on away before the end of the lunch period. 

Lunch was very much not a good time for an erection, damn it, but Eames' thigh was still warm beside his. It was hard and getting harder by the minute. Pun most definitely intended.

Arthur was seventeen and he'd thought he was past the whole getting-hard-during-school thing. He really had.

Leave it to Eames and his casual beauty to prove him wrong. Arthur wished that he could be more resentful and less enthralled by this fact.

***

Ariadne could tell immediately when Arthur took Eames clothes shopping. It wasn't as though she knew every single piece of Eames' wardrobe... only she totally did. And it wasn't like one or two new things showed up. It was a complete overhaul.

Eames still wore jeans more fitted than the norm, but they were closer to boot-cut than skinny, and she had to admit that they showcased his lengthening legs and tiny rear even more than the jeans she'd chosen for him. She wasn't sure whether Arthur had picked the new style out or if Eames had chosen them himself, but they were definitely flattering.

His taste in shirts hadn't actually changed that much. Eames still tended to favor long sleeves and a loose fit around the torso. But Ariadne suddenly noticed that Eames had more of a torso for the material to drape over.

She'd always known that Eames would shoot up and out once he started eating regularly. And he was working out with Arthur, which could only help. It was pretty nice to see the results of this, though, and to note that Eames was starting to look pretty hot.

Eames had traded in his converse sneakers for hiking boots, and he had a brand new leather jacket that Ariadne was deeply jealous of. Evidently he'd been sitting on the clothing allowance he got from Mr. Saito for a while, and had gone all out when given the push to get out there and go shopping.

And it had evidently been Arthur who had decided to give him that push.

Ariadne was really glad that Arthur had thought of it. Not just because she thought it was healthy for Eames to choose his own clothes rather than playing at being her little dress-up doll --though it _had_ been fun to choose his wardrobe for him once they'd become friends, and she regretted nothing -- but also because it meant that Arthur and Eames had spent some serious one-on-one time together.

After all, what was more personal than clothing shopping? Even if Eames had been the only one buying new clothes, it was still something that Arthur had talked him into doing and Eames had taken Arthur along, to offer his input and probably to keep him going when he wanted to give up. Ariadne had practically had to drag him around by the hand when she'd taken him shopping, so she knew.

Eames seemed almost apologetic that he'd shifted from the style that she'd picked out for him, so she made sure to compliment him on each new outfit that he wore. Arthur was smug, so she punched him in the upper arm, but he was her older brother so he could probably tell that she was proud of him as well.

She wasn't sure what was stopping Arthur from just making his move, especially now that Eames was _living_ with them, but she suspected that the reason started with a "D" and ended with an "M"... or a "B" if one went with said reason's full name.

Dominic Cobb was such a creeper, and now he was completely cockblocking Ariadne's brother and her best friend, just through the _memory_ of what he'd done. It infuriated Ariadne, to know that not only had Dom deflowered and dumped Eames when he'd practically been a baby still, but that now the mere knowledge that he had done so was almost definitely the reason Arthur was holding off on letting Eames know he was interested in him.

Robert was still urging that she not get involved, and she was smart enough to know that it would be a really bad idea... but it was also really hard to just stand by and watch them pine over one another when neither one was willing to _make a move_.

Because that was what they were doing, there was no doubt about it. Ariadne had used to think it was mostly wishful thinking on her part, but now that they were all living in the same house she was _certain_ that this interest was mutual.

Being one half of a happy, successful couple, she obviously wanted those she cared about to be as happy and successful as she and Robert were. But instead, the spectre of Dom Cobb hung over Arthur's head, keeping him from acting on his affections. And Eames was just too shy and insecure to hit on Arthur. He was probably afraid that doing so would ruin their friendship.

If Ariadne had thought it would do any good to just _tell_ Eames that Arthur was interested in him, she'd have done so in a heartbeat. But that way lay disaster, and while it was tough to keep her nose out of it, she tried her best to be circumspect and leave them to muddle through things on their own.

That didn't mean that she couldn't manufacture reasons for them to have to spend time together. As if they needed her encouragement for that. But she really hoped that when they went out with her and Robert that it felt as much like a double date to Arthur and Eames as it did to her.

It was just this incredibly frustrating stalemate. And she knew that Robert was right when he urged her to stay out of it, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. Especially when Arthur and Eames were both living in the same house as her, not to mention living in the same house as _each other_.

Ariadne had really thought and hoped that once Eames moved in with them, that this would advance his and Arthur's potential relationship forward. And, yeah, they were becoming closer and closer friends, which was good. It was great, in fact, because Ariadne had never liked the fact that Eames had no one but her, as much as she loved him and loved being his friend.

But she knew, she _knew_ that they could be wonderful together, as an adorable couple, and it was making her crazy that they were both balking from taking that final step.

So even though she knew it was a bad idea and a potential disaster, it was getting increasingly more difficult to keep from playing matchmaker and doing something, _anything_ to get the two of them to acknowledge their feelings and get together.

It wasn't selfish to want all three of the most important people in her life to be as happy as they could be, was it? Where was the harm in wishing that Arthur and Eames had what she and Robert had?

If she could just figure out _how_ to get them there. Preferably without anyone knowing she was involved. It shouldn't be too hard. After all, she was smart and resourceful and inventive. Not to mention determined.

She just needed to dream up some way to get Arthur and Eames together.

She could do this.


End file.
